Jeanne D’Arc
My tongue coils around the shafted silence,
And burns like a thousand suns.
Here, it is said, is my strength.
It is in the shadows that I grow, and become.
I am whole, they say, because I am closed.
I speak mystery, agnostic soul-song.
The others, those who speak with tongues,
Fiery, noisome, clamorous,
Marvel at my silence, at my martyrdom.
How comes she by such powers?
They hang me by the rafters,
And with gentle lashes, watch me dance.
©Nikhil 2020
