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Corrine De Winter has been a freelance writer for about 19 years. Her work has been published in over 600 journals, books and magazines including New York Quarterly, The Writer, Space & Time, Tales of the Unanticipated, The Other Side, Yankee, Prisoners of the Night Poet's Market 92-99, and others. Her work has been nominated twice for The Pushcart Prize and most recently for The Rhysling Award.

Dark Planet is designed and edited by Lucy A. Snyder. If you spot any errors, or if you have any comments, please contact her at lusnyde@cyberus.ca.

All materials copyright 1996-2000 by their respective creators. No stories, articles, poems or images from this webzine may be posted or published without the written consent of their creator(s).


by Corrine De Winter

Can a body starve from Desire?
Or is it that waiting,
The sharp need for the bloom to unfold
Which saves us?

Beauty, as you dream
In your well-deep sleep
Snowfall, flora and rain
Silent as a mute swan
Comes and goes.

You dream of needles
And vox malefica.
Wild roses, ivy and frogs
Nudge the inside of your thighs.
Golden braids curl
Around your knees.

Beauty, you have known only
Repressed magic, animal speak,
How to gather safely sweet berries
But now time
Builds cities in your heart,
The four chambers grow heavy
With the weight of your beloved
Slumped in comatose sleep.

        Beauty looked into animal eyes
        And saw only the present
        Staring back,
        The dark pupil
        Of entry.

Beauty dreams of life,
Of uneasy children
In an ill embrace.
Dreams of honey-blonde hair
Worked away
With a dull razor.
She dreams of waking
To ecstasy or ether,
A kiss soft as eider down or clover.

And when the boy comes,
Clears the supernatural with his touch,
She remembers love,
Asks for it, demands it,
Goes digging for it
Like a starving animal in winter
Smelling death.