The Bride Reconstructed

Sandra Franke © 2016
Where do the walls end
And the clouds begin
In the confluence of gold vapour
From her basin of ashes
She harvests her past regrets
The City of death entering
The picture plane of her eyes
Her brush emitting your City of love

Sir, my heart is the city of your love
While there are millions of suns
There is one earth
Your soul making vial
With the rain of your thoughts
crying upon me
Giving shape to the world below

Your bride reclining
Body glistening
Toes resting
On the shores of Lake Ontario
Neck like an ivory tower
She dwells where they cannot see her
And yet they construct her very being
A deathlike race of excavation
Piles driven deep

Veil of vanity
Her scent beguiles them
As they try to feverishly remember
Distant plans
Remote elevations
Lost in the fog of a fallen future
They feast on the relics of her past
As she rises from her long slumber

Sandra Franke


















The Bride Reconstructed, Two Lanterns – Distillery District -2010