I, Lalla: The Poems of Lal Dĕd
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I Don't Believe in the Wine of My Own Voice
"I wrestled with the darkness inside me knocked it down clawed at it ripped it to shreds. John and Nicky will tell you those are the contortions I go to try and make a cop that somebody speaking to you from hundreds of years ago they got you nailed only." "It's this particular poem the wine of your own voice and the wrestling with the darkness and the knocking it and clawing it and ripping it," says Shana, who has been struggling on her own for some time. 'If you'd asked us to read this a year ago, three months ago, it wouldn't have meant the same thing to me then as it does reading it now'
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