Suslov’s Seed

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

A germinating twilight seeds my chest,

The marrow and the arteries within

It, since I met the holy one, the best

Of monks without a robe to spread his sin

Around our dusk, his sinless sin since he

Is Old Believer holy, see-through dusk

The element he sows in.  He is free

From guilt.  His innocence distributes musk

From planting parables.  The must is male

Of course and it perfumes the pregnanced air.

Love’s fingers read his breasts as saintly Braille

Of fragrance from archangels’ solemn hair.

  No wedding candles are required.  No sworn

    Religious needs them, ploughing sacred corn.