1. Home
  2. Poetry Magazine
  3. Poems
  4. Temple You by Lisa Russ Spaar
Temple You

Related Poem Content Details

What is mysterious about loss,
flush of arm pulled from a wilted sleeve,

summer’s urine-tang in autumn leaves?
Let   John Keats light another fag.

Or Brontë refuse the doctor
on her black sateen settee.

For whatever part of   you
may be taken away, you said,

is the scar I will visit first
with my mouth, each time,

as gold visits the thieved till,
sun the obliterated sill,

saying praise you for leaving
me this you, this living still.

Source: Poetry (February 2013)

More from this issue

This poem originally appeared in the February 2013 issue of Poetry magazine

  • Search every issue of Poetry

Your results will be limited to content that appeared in Poetry magazine. Search the whole site

Temple You

Related Poem Content Details

  • Search every issue of Poetry

Your results will be limited to content that appeared in Poetry magazine. Search the whole site

Other Information