Body’s holding back and my dreams are soiled and world-ly. I pray for white dreams from the moon, pure and open as a sea shell, white as mother’s milk.
Instead I dream of him and his face under me, a face I know too well and loved to my own small death and the dream is love-making yet I am disintegrating like an old dry leaf. I am ashamed and I am empty.
I see my body, I am within my body, but not it she her that moves, entangled feet and arms. I see her yet I am not there fully, I have never been there fully. I suddenly see this body, a cavity, this body over the years giving and turning and twitching to love to hold. This body an empty cavity, shell, I can see now the yearning, the desperation – I watch myself and her and she and know that it is over it is over it is over.
Please forgive me, I tell her.
I love you, I love you and her and she.
***
Too much praying to a god of men, today I crave death to fill my bones like thick black marrow. As Woman I die at each turn of the cycle, when my bleed ceases I stop breathing like an ill fish on dry land, I am restless. Today I crave dark and her and she.
And my dream space is Sacred, how dare you appear after years and again
I kneel before you, dark spell or habit of submitting to love’s shadow
I am ashamed so I wake early feeling your skin still despite it being dream,
I feel your skin still
my body’s indented with your shape as if it was real.
There is no love or longing only meat and sweat and I feel your cheeks in my palms
sticky and soft and remembering, like the blind seeing by touching.
I wake dirty and ashamed of this apparition after so many years and how dare you,
dripping inside my head, leaking through like a broken home
squirming through my thoughts
how dare you clutch my head with both your hands, how dare you drop in my dream,
uninvinted
once again.
When morning comes I wash you off my body, a bad dream,
I spit you out, rinse my mouth and
you’re gone.
***
I come to Earth and Earth yearns to feed me. I plant my seeds and yet I doubt their strength to blossom. I give too much water, almost drown them. Buried in dark soil, I await their germination, small heads of green poking through dark. They’ll make it, in spite of it all. They’ll make it.
I am a seed and I am Earth within I am moon I am you and her and she.
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