By Margaret Valle
FROM THE PAGES OF FRANKENSTEIN
strangely are our souls constructed,
powers
unknown
agony, I collected
mysteries of creation.
glimmer of the half-extinguished
a spark of being
burnt out,
lifeless thing
livid with the hue of death;
I thought that I held the corpse of my
dead mother in my arms.
Did any one indeed exist,
except I,