So beautiful--God himself quailed <br />at her approach: the long body curved <br />like the horizon. Why had he made <br />her so? How would it be, she said, <br />leaning towards him, if instead of <br />quarreling over it, we divided it <br />between us? You can have all the credit <br />for its invention, if you will leave the ordering <br />of it to me. He looked into her <br />eyes and saw far down the bones <br />of the generations that would navigate <br />by those great stars, but the pull of it <br />was too much. Yes, he thought, give me their minds' <br />tribute, and what they do with their bodies <br />is not my concern. He put his hand in his side <br />and drew out the thorn for the letting <br />of the ordained blood and touched her with <br />it. Go, he said. They shall come to you for ever <br />with their desire, and you shall bleed for them in return. <br /> <br /> <br />Submitted by Gnute<br /><br />Ronald Stuart Thomas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-woman/
