Light Breaks Where No Sun Shines

Light breaks where no sun shines;
       Where no sea runs, the waters of the heart
       Push in their tides;
       And, broken ghosts with glow—worms in their heads,
       The things of light
       File through the flesh where no flesh decks the bones.
       A candle in the thighs
       Warms youth and seed and burns the seeds of age;
       Where no seed stirs,
       The fruit of man unwrinkles in the stars,
       Bright as a fig;
       Where no wax is, the candle shows its hairs.
       Dawn breaks behind the eyes;
       From poles of skull and toe the windy blood
       Slides like a sea;
       Nor fenced, nor staked, the gushers of the sky
       Spout to the rod
       Divining in a smile the oil of tears.
       Night in the sockets rounds,
       Like some pitch moon, the limit of the globes;
       Day lights the bone;
       Where no cold is, the skinning gales unpin
       The winter’s robes;
       The film of spring is hanging from the lids.
       Light breaks on secret lots,
       On tips of thought where thoughts smell in the rain;
       When logics die,
       The secret of the soil grows through the eye,
       And blood jumps in the sun;
       Above the waste allotments the dawn halts.
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