by: Katherine W. McCluskey
- ITY, O Bridegroom,
- The perilous joy of the bride!
- In the searching lights of her eyes,
- In the fugitive flush of her cheeks,
- In the fainting pink of her palm,
- In the speed-mad pulse of her wrist,
- In the throb and flight of her heart,
- In the lifting foam of her breasts,
- In her pale, excited smile,--
- A dim flame, blown in a wind,--
- See the perilous happiness,
- Hid in the blood of your bride.
- Eve alone
- Of the generations of women,
- Lacked the perilous joy of the bride.
- Fully innocent, fully ignorant,
- Gurgled her sweet child-laughter.
- But to her daughters,
- Down to the wayward moderns,
- Whispers and echoes what she learned
- From giving her secret self,
- From giving her red rose heart,
- From giving her cream rose breast,
- From giving her crystal dreams,--
- Dividing her trinity,
- Her soul and her flesh and her mind,
- With Adam.
- So began, O Bridegroom,
- The perilous happiness,
- A bubble, ready to break,
- A sphere made of colors alone,
- Your bride with her searching eyes
- Holds out to your snatching hands.
MORE POEMS BY KATHERINE MCCLUSKEY
"Bridegroom" is reprinted
from Poetica Erotica. Ed. T.R. Smith. New York: Crown