Creation

Time had placed itself in her womb

She knew this through a dream that made her a song

A song that travelled between the past and future of womanhood

With each day a spiral formed on her belly

Perfect circles that mapped an ancient language of lost suns

She would hear love songs that rose up from ashes, from stones, from her ancestors

They were gifts

They would heal time, they would love her when she grew tired

They held her like a cloak of stars

She felt her milk full with songs of creation, with timeless essence

Every spiral was guided by her soul as unforgotten desires to find love within

Her skin was made into a million midnights, dipped in oak honey to make her glisten like moonlight

The spirals would glow at the touch of the sun’s rays

Her belly would rhythm odd dances and mimic heartbeats

Each day a song grew that she would sing with conviction of raising the dead

Of being a lover, a beam of radiance, a tunnel through which life was a means to itself

She was singing her life

Being made again, as time

kisses are
when loneliness wears itself as parted lips
where comfort has built its shrine

Duality

As I dream between my tears and smiles that smell of you
I hold myself..i do not forget the sorrow beneath my healing
The scars are riddles now, I say them easily but fail to read through their meaning, they feel like wounds still, sometimes.. 
The night tastes like my longing, for you. I am born only with daylight, because I can follow its rays.. but I fade with the night, I shudder with the emptiness of darkness, of a torn heart
Its cycles of my spirit, uncleanness and purification.. renewal and death..
I do not know which I do better.. healing or sorrow.. it seems my conviction comes in knowing you are both.

Winter

We have become two lodged logs abandoned by winter
Waiting for fire to light the life that rests silent in us
The wish to burn, even though becoming nothing, we would remember what we once were
The soil, the seed, life
Now we are here, in a woodland that knows not our names
Frozen, forgotten

Heart Bone

She said there is a heart bone
Kept together by strange blood and ashes of ocean shells 
Resembling a thick root of an oak tree reaching deep for forgotten wells
She said the heart bone had strings
Long and aligned
Strings that take the shape of one’s spirit, aching or intact
They made the beat of the heart she says, and would rhythm her new lovers, new adventures
New stories only her body could tell
Making her fragile to her own fire of existence
Her mother had told her, that the bone would never break
Even by the fractures of her heart, for loving those who could never love back
Or pain from scribbling down wishes on a skin that eventually wrinkles
It could never be seen, or touched
It was a gift, a connection, a strong whisper
For her to remember that her heart, is joined to a vast mystery

Pain

All pain leads to here, now and then
Like time woven on broken glass
Finding way between the cracks, between the stillness of shattered memories
How is it possible to have so many layers, in a single moment?
Gogo said time does not exist
I smile at my ignorance then
And now, I hold pain as the only time that ever existed
She smiles back, somewhere, in the pain.

Crawling

Grabbing the ground like a muslim kissing God on his prayer mat
He releases his sun brushed palms trying to hold his reflection on the ceramic floor
Lying on his milk filled belly, he still manages to fall on the side of his red blushed cheek, a laugh escaping from an attempted cry
Feet spread apart, he gazes up for a breath and a smile, as movement wraps his curious body
Moving it in various directions at once
Glory is in his every gesture as he sways forward to nothing
Feeling, seeking, exploring with his whole flesh

Retrospections

You are not allowed to say you miss me
You are not permitted to stab a wound that has bled all its venom
Those words must never lace your tongue and sound like a song to me
They must never escape your mouth and revive what broke to find its pieces again
Have you ever become a whirlwind of sand while it rains?
Have you ever slit your hand only to eat with it?
Have you ever walked on a land that blisters your feet while it whispers ‘the journey is worth it’?
To miss me is to grab my lingering breath
It is to stare into a nakedness that is crying to be clothed
Forget those words
Make them a dream that only haunts your eyes
Forget those two words
Even though my heart aches for the glory it would taste as it hears them
Forget them
For the sake of a sanity that barely hangs

Lovers

The lovers left me with soft wounds

So, I stood between the trees, listened to their whispers, telling me why these wounds smell of death's shadow, they said;

I have let my wounds rot in the palms of hope

I have let them suffocate from the healing truth, with bandaged hurt

And I have let my own shadow, become death itself

I then sowed a seed in the night

The lovers became dreams

I could taste my own blood on their hands, my eyes became black like the widow's soul, i knew i sought healing

Water came as a spirit, i washed my wounds, i was tired but i washed them clean

The lovers became doves, with twigs in their mouths that carried parts of me i had lost

The twigs fell to the ground, i went to collect myself once again

My shadow had starved, and i remember the fire that fed it

It was, my forgiveness, i forgave myself, for not listening to the lovers as they murmured, 'heal yourself'.

♥