D.N.A

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Modern British Poetry

Submitted: September 10, 2012

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Submitted: September 10, 2012

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When you were not looking,
Which was often,
There was another life;
Disfigured Love,
The crushed head on the table,
Drunk on its disability.
What deformity should it look for?

The hair, not blonde,
The years, too accumulated,
The moon-skin
Too dark under its pearl sheen?

I have been down 
Into a love
As sincere as DNA
And found no pathogen,
No non-sequencial numbers.

Too pure then?
Like the minds and bones
Of the over bred;
The price of a beautiful thing
Too high for the hearts wage.


© Copyright 2017 Alison Huntley. All rights reserved.