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Deborah Brasket's avatar

My favorite Franz Wright poem:

Untitled

This was the first time I knelt

and with my lips, frightened, kissed

the lit inwardly pink petaled lips.

It was like touching a bird’s exposed heart

with your tongue.

Summer dawn flowing into the room parting the

curtains—the lamps dimming—breeze

rendered visible. Lightning,

and then soft applause

from the leaves . . .

Almost children, we lay asleep in love listening to the

rain.

We didn’t ask to be born.

— Franz Wright, “Untitled,” Earlier Poems (Alfred A. Knopf, 2007)

The Final Quarter's avatar

Wow. Thanks!

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