Roaring inside
Swishing your tail
Brave, upside down
Ripples in a red pool
Child of mine, tell me
Is it better or worse
To call you un-souled
At your time of dying?
-M.
Writing Life
Roaring inside
Swishing your tail
Brave, upside down
Ripples in a red pool
Child of mine, tell me
Is it better or worse
To call you un-souled
At your time of dying?
-M.
When the angel comes
Will I know to step back
Will I have love
Or will I have lack?
-M.
Squeeze. Release. .
Juice runs through your fingers.
Light in the kaleidoscope on the
Insides of your eyelids tightly closed.
Body scent of Beloved drawn in
Held. Held. Dizzy.
Held. Released.
-M.
After the shower fruity
Shampoo smell released
Ascending from a turban unfurled
The Holy Spirit you kept
Under your hat.
-M.
Exotic medicine sells
Books better than juiced
Our mythology and
We knew this all along.
-M.
Fresh box of 12 bold
pens. If only they smelled like
brand new Crayolas.
-M.
Windows with closed mouths
Wallpaper scrubbed clean
An antique porcelain tub
Where no one drowned
An unfinished basement
Where no one clawed and cried
No horrors under the floorboards
No broken furniture to remember
No shadows in the closets
No starvation in the dining room
Unused door locks
Original doors
Gently closed
-M.
A smorgasbord of inspiration
Laid on the table—trauma
The bitter bean salad
No one will touch and
The cook would sooner
Abandon her Tupperware
Than admit she’s the one
Who brought the bitter beans
To the funerary feast.
-M.
We were meant to dance
I think
This is how the, Push me.
Push me. love rounds
Into something more like sway
With the long ache and
Hold me up
Hold me up.
-M.
From my left hand broken
Though my body is whole
You know it with yours
Raw honey from my ring finger
To your neck that velvet
Spot below your ear
Milk and marble cake from
My mouth on your birthday
And on mine.
-M.