Finish and Touches

Slave enchained in stone,
undefined history beginning,
your words are strangled
dripping like echoless sonatas.

Your Atlas arms bend
under a load heavier than time
rowing in a freedom’s dream
like on a stormy sea.
Your eyes’ arrows aim
directly at the sculptor’s wound
giving you birth in pain,
and now return towards me
from a distant mirror.

Only I can break your chains
in the empty museum hall,
just looking at you,
embracing you with wide-open eyes.


Michelangelo's slaves/prisoners series

Categories: My Poems in 2009 | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

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