Limewash

Was it too much?
Do I disgrace this life?

There is no wick to me
No salt
No gash
No spittle
Or poitín.

I am timeblind
Desireless
A dishrag
Boil me.

Limpet
invalide.
Smash me
off the rock
where I am
clinging
and

Crush Me.

To Purity.
To Smithereens.

Go Ahead
slap me
on the wall.
I am limewash.
Astringent.
Chalky.

A bleached
beacon
blinding the fishermen
come to shore.

A beached
cetacean
a cadaver cathedral.

Another mammal
stranded
inches from their
world.

I dare not bleed,
I have no stigmata.
I will not wander
I won’t climb a hill to die on.

Immaculate I am
I am flax linen
Stitched into
the fascia beneath my skin.

There is no undressing.

No tip of the phallus on my tongue
No hook of fingers between lips
My nipple is not bitten by lover
or son

I do not knit geansaís or booties.

I am a white spider.
All eight limbs
spin the good name
of my family.

I am their daughter of sin.
I am their mother of mercy
Jesus Christ did forgive me.

Now that there’s nothing left
but
the lace
and
the laundry.