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Substitutions
Belly dancing at 2am chains fathomless
strangers to bed. Oracles are worse
the morning messages distort burning
torches, booty, revenge. Purity's pose
accommodates nothing. Harsh light
violates truth. Circumspect faces accept
no gift wrapped visit to the tomb.
To drink where the rock used to be,
water drips promises rarely forgotten
yet every mouth sounds hollow.
***
The Month of Mercury
She floats toward the fig tree, clings to imagined land
like the arc of his mouth kisses shadows fast asleep.
If she swallows incubation, waits for perfection
to remove her party dress, embroider new truths
full of pomegranate seeds, silver threads from Hades
shaped like transfigured siestas, a straightjacket torn
when she swivels on his lap, whitewashes walls, nails
questions reading palms on an open grave, no piece
of earth undisturbed, her hands are full of dirt.
***
After the Affair
She is dutiful the way she appears as an urn
full of ash, parched by fire consuming
scented limbs when his hands hold thighs
wide apart. He laps the way water laps
thirsty skin except pads of fingers touch
particles of dust. The earth reminds him
of stale crust, salted dreams, heavy routine,
a shroud without air. There are many signs,
read and white alchemy he defines as lead.
I've lost count how many times he slips
in amniotic fluid, the embryonic stage
when there's blood on his face.
He swoons, pale and shaky, impaled
before stillbirth tries to engage
the distant leash he begs to wear,
a friable fracture of placental tears.
***
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