Poem Hunter
A Memory Of The Players In A Mirror At Midnight
(2 February 1882 – 13 January 1941 / Dublin / Ireland)

A Memory Of The Players In A Mirror At Midnight

Poem By James Joyce

They mouth love's language. Gnash
The thirteen teeth
Your lean jaws grin with. Lash
Your itch and quailing, nude greed of the flesh.
Love's breath in you is stale, worded or sung,
As sour as cat's breath,
Harsh of tongue.

This grey that stares
Lies not, stark skin and bone.
Leave greasy lips their kissing. None
Will choose her what you see to mouth upon.
Dire hunger holds his hour.
Pluck forth your heart, saltblood, a fruit of tears.
Pluck and devour!

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Comments (8)

must like garlic you would think
CONGRATULATIONS as Classic Poem Of The Day, JJ the famous Only One.
Amazing poetry by James Joyce.
Skin and bone! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
This is a beautiful poem on love having fascinating expression.