AUTHOR
I’ve written
everything
for God
and nothing
for the braided
spine
linking
my past
with this moment.
No. Lies.
Because everything
snakes
from the beginning
to end and
Even when you
cut off the head,
the body still thrives
if only for
a
heartbeat.
There’s your face
Cheek to my skin
And nobody even
Knows the shade
Of all the colors
Bleeding into
The hollows of your
Cheeks,
But I feel it goes
Beyond the white
Of my outsides
and the grainy
Hash of my
Innards.
If I had
All the beauty
In the world,
I’d spoil it
By losing my name
and Yours, too.
And as our breath
Mingles,
You taking
Everything
From my reach,
And all I have left
To touch
Are the hollows,
those colors.
Between sex
And death
Cecilia chose
The latter
And that was
Always
the music
That played
At my heels.
Sex or death.
Sinner or saint.
No in between.
But can’t you
See?
It takes a lifetime
Of bad memory
To untangle our
Legs,
Smooth over
The edges,
And no amount
Of “I’m sorrys”
Will kill the story
“You’re forgiven”
has played
On my heart.
Here’s what will happen:
You’ll hate me for a lifetime
Or
A moment.
And I will visit you at the church where you work or in the prison near my house.
And you will love God or learn the world according to Satan.
And maybe you will have children or know the ways of an untrained womb.
And maybe you’ll be happy on your own accord or shear every inch of yourself to wear another woman.
And you will remember all my sins and stack them up against me.
Or you will love me and let memory rot and forget the day I screamed until both our throats ran dry.
I guess
there are
things I think
about.
Who wouldn’t
with hair
in your mouth
and a whole
world in your throat?
But I don’t deny
the fact
that love
was never
an issue.
Quite the opposite.
And that,
my friend,
is the
problem. -e.c.
The scraps
Fall from
Your mouth and I
Mound them
Into my
Little mountain,
Conquer
The peak
Of all
You’ve
Discarded. -e.c.
Here’s your
March
Of time
And Evolutionary
Progression
But burning
Your offspring
And tasting
The sharp note
Of blood
When nobody
Loves you
Is like a sweet
Reminder
That your
Death
Is the only
Real truth
You know.
– e.c.
An
incredible amount
of energy
is spent
forgetting
all that’s left
to remember.
-e.c.
Once, I was a little girl, too, until the sun prospered then withered and all the gold drained to gray.
But now I see it in your smile.
