Adrienne, I am like the closed mouth of an hourglass, twenty centuries with their million or so ancestors pressing down upon me, with the weight of their longings and their loves.

But I am closed until you take me in your arms, into your bed, and place me on the mantle of your heart, so that time, which is our blood combined, can flow again for twenty centuries or more.

I very much enjoyed the Donnian conceit of mixing blood, because in our times the mixing of blood is in death rather than in joy and life.

I have only read four of your poems so far, but I would add that you are not afraid to use concepts. These days poetry is too micro, to minute, but for those who read a number like a million is as tangible as the halves of a cracked pistachio shell.

Cheers,

BB