Psalm 51:On Drost's Batsheba met de brief van koning David

On Drost's Batsheba met de brief van koning David

The sound
of fire
in the brazier
wakes me,
and I know,
now,
what I have long
heard:
flames lick,
sputter,
consume,
and leave
not ash,
but
something
spent,
and old.

I have seen him,
tonight,
and I'm sorry;
running,
in your charges,
as I
have imagined them:
before bronze
and wood
penetrating
deeply,
and drawing
red, and
precious,
blood.

What kind
price
was this?
Paid
in blood-guiltiness:
yours, first;
and also
mine.

You age me,
king.
The lines
are appearing,
in the corners
of my eyes,
and my mouth;
between
the stretched skin
of my jaw,
and shoulder:
battlements,
overlooking,
a no man's
land.
I will not remain
as new.

And what price
then?

You age me,
king.
Your eyes
wander,
and are weighed.
Your lust
for me
burns,
and consumes,
and I
am not
ash--
but sold.

KMC 1/15/14