Judith Wright - Metho Drinker

Under the death of winter's leaves he lies <br />who cried to Nothing and the terrible night <br />to be his home and bread. 'O take from me <br />the weight and waterfall ceaseless Time <br />that batters down my weakness; the knives of light <br />whose thrust I cannot turn; the cruelty <br />of human eyes that dare not touch nor pity.' <br />Under the worn leaves of the winter city <br />safe in the house of Nothing now he lies. <br /> <br />His white and burning girl, his woman of fire, <br />creeps to his heart and sets a candle there <br />to melt away the flesh that hides from bone, <br />to eat the nerve that tethers him in time. <br />He will lie warm until the bone is bare <br />and on a dead dark moon he wakes alone. <br />It was for Death he took her; death is but this; <br />and yet he is uneasy under her kiss <br />and winces from that acid of her desire.<br /><br />Judith Wright<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/metho-drinker/