Emily Dickinson In Pale Blush

I tend my fires on secret coals

No bell could toll the shame

That blooms beneath my corset's cage

A wilder bloom than grace

The bees assume the clover's right

And I assume the thorn

To guard a pink too fierce for light

That shames the rose at dawn

They speak of lilies chaste and pale

As snow untouched by sun

But I have known a bud to swell

Where noon and night are one

The eyes of saints drop like a goad

To veil their shallow seas

While mine strike flint against the dark

And name her as they please

Oh, blush that burns a parish down

When she walks through the door

My body is a hymn unbound

And heaven craves her more