To Eros

Now low rod :
marvel me, make me
  
  
knock, turn, open
my hat of sky,
  
  
let me so love.
Where caution is
  
  
ripe air, let us
garden injury; where
  
  
there’s redoubt,
let’s outdo fealty,
  
  
you and I
unruly. Dear spare bed,
  
  
dear whole open
ingathered weather :
  
  
furl hope, make
dark necessary
  
  
to lie in
whether we’re sad
  
  
after or joyful.
O dear viny mass,
  
  
grow green ever
over us, knot
  
  
some succor
for us to seek—
Sore Eros
Brian Teare
Teare_cover

Sore Eros

Brian Teare

Floating Wolf Quarterly Cover_wolf
 
 
Sore Eros cover

Sore Eros

Brian Teare


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