Ivory Black [Not to speak]

Myriam Moscona

 
  Not to speak
To see and to translate into moans    It's not pain
  To moan from birth
  Only the eye and the conquering of a tongue
  (that you wanted to say that for the slit?)
  To return toward hearing (to touch oneself) via the
  heart is heard slowly
  Is guarded like a black poem as if it were an eye
who might rain
 
From Negro marfil / Ivory Black by Myriam Moscona. Copyright © 2011 by Jen Hofer. Published by Les Figues Press. Reprinted with permission of the translator.

Poems by This Author

Ivory Black [BLACK breathing BLACK at the window] by Myriam Moscona
BLACK breathing BLACK at the window
Ivory Black [Dissolves] by Myriam Moscona
Dissolves
Ivory Black [In the white and in the soot] by Myriam Moscona
In the white and in the soot


Further Reading

Related Poems
Beneath Speech
by Mary Ann Samyn
The Angel that presided 'oer my birth
by William Blake
After David Hammons
by Claudia Rankine