Girl writing in diary

Girl Diaries

There is no censure in her year,
not in her choice, or the hurt of players;
they beckoned wildly for their play,
she put on shadow for their drowning,
they wore a salt of waters.

Bones settle to the bottom from ideas
a single summer in your flesh, raise
flat rock above your waters flashing
and put away all vaulted rhyme, a single
ransom showing through your dress.

There is no knowledge for my word,
not in my blood or the colder season;
break new porphyry for human sound,
raise red soil on words in girl diaries,
lightly call them to my play,

my ear a treasure house to keep this sound.

But if my words falter and keep no city,
fail to please the eye’s tall kingdom,
put away my brain, my trains and towns.
I will go; but stay again. A single strike
of spider ore, the sparkled studs above

girls’ flashing waters.