Month: July 2019

I gave you my bones
to have
to make things from.

You took the bag of them.
I gave myself grief and misery about houses and friends, about the bitter and willful end. I mourned my parents though they are not yet dead.
I sat with the rain and let the thistles sting my feet.
I let the stones cut me deep and the granite bruise my heels.
Heavy landings for a burden beast.

Past an eclipse a sweet ether emits from me
and I become another person.
Some scripture burns in my fires
and I am suddenly unburdened.

Some colours ignite
and I see my horizon
Maybe you can’t be crucified
if there is no hill to die on?

I guess I gave you my bones
to get you to see what I am made of.
Now I give myself back my body
my own soul
my voice
and everything else that I am afraid of.

‘No one dreams like you.’

I am dancing in a meadow
I pull up my dress and let the sun reflect on my lunar skin.
I am striped like a white tiger in pearlescent lines
camouflaging my arms, breast belly and thighs.
I am singing out in sacred sighs
and robins come to watch.

‘No one dreams like you.’

I recall the mountainside shattered into blue does,
streaming down a desertscape, until they became one and formed
a lake.
I gazed into it and saw a whale.
My pelvis bloomed like a cactus.

No one dreams like you.

Your breath escapes into me when we’re sleeping
and in the dark
the luminescence of car lights on wet nights
play like shadow puppets on
your back and your chest
and your arms.

I watch your eyelids flicker like moths

No one dreams like you.

I am crying in a thunderstorm
arguing with a trickster god
telling me to swim now
now
now.
I am naked but never alone.
Lightening strikes the water
and trees grow from the scars.
Transparent vagabonds encircle me.

No one dreams like you.

I can feel you pull away from me
I am here deafened by your heart beat.
My lips are like a poppy
your skin feels like their milk.
Let me lick your wounds
we humans have cut us deep

Remember that you love me.

Let me dream again with you.

Human
ribcage

human
ribcage
I’m being watched and seen

What do I have locked up?
Breathe.
breathe
Someones coming…
I’m scared of everything.

I wish bone myself again and again,
let them snap me in two,
make a better woman for this one,
be a better friend.
See who would get the best of me
be a wish come true.

In a dream we make love facing one another under a
yew tree.
My legs lock you into me and the ferny brush of the fronds
drifts over the notches on my spine;

We reel back in time
and on a cave wall there’s the outline
of our hands
the smoke and spark
the elemental tenderness of the breathing dark
in a cavern that
surrounds us
like a
human
ribcage.

Breathe.
breathe
You look into me.

I burst into pomegranate seeds
you shatter into starlings and devour every
pulsing ruby piece of me.
Their murmurations
script out in a
caligraphy of secret incantations
that
the truth
bleeds from the seeds
of this fruit

Shiva keeps on dancing.

And I catch on to nothing
Human
ribcage.

It is not fair how close you perceive me.
And without the salt from your eyes
without your blood in my mouth
and without some strong hand at the small of my back
I am liable to collapse.
You saw the fear within me.

I cracked up what’s been there to protect me.
I tried to snag you on the edge of my own suffering.
So I could taste your blood.
So I can be reminded that you too
are human.
They say god made me from your ribcage
lets say that’s true
Breathe now,
breathe easy
it’s seems I can be spared for now
as I remain a part of you.