in silences adored and silkened embrace
in silences adored and silkened embrace i shed my body, its skin a fragrant papershell a narcissus i shed it again and again under the old motherly moon i shed it in dreamings womb and always it remains the same wrinkled and smooth soft body of sunflowers body of iris blue and yellow body you taste and smell of olives and geraniums with the strength of stones you settle on the earth and i shed you like light on a mountain under the sea or a robe fresh woven falling gracefully to the ground
ladyslipper
when we kneel, dark orchid, the nightgown of your body unfolds the flower of your hips, like when the rain comes down with her black tresses. and, everywhere, loose death shakes her earrings at our feet. green omens shift from one foot to another at the river of voices and i hear my soul, wailing like a prisoner of talismans, and signs.
manhood
on the first day, i opened my eyes wide into my mother’s milk, then slept. on the second day, my heart was stone, i dashed it to the ground, and at my mother. on the third day, your milk, sweet queen of bees, was my honey and bitters. i drank it all. on the fourth, fifth and sixth days, i saw the moon with her bull’s horn of pearl swimming through the trees. you chased after her. now, the seventh day has come, i cast off broken bones the hard wrinkles in my forehead, swimming after you both, asking for forgiveness.
