the daughter of my mother
sleeps inside my chest.
murmurs in her sleep
"i could do it better, i could be loved for it"

                      my mother loves her daughter.

it's hard, letting her go
my home of many years
no matter how uncomfortable the bed was
how cold the rooms
i lived in her
was loved in her

sometimes i take her out
drag her out of my soul like old laundry
like nostalgia, like a party dress
i slip, quietly, into her skin
wear her face, her family.
she doesn't fit right.

the daughter of my mother
is coated in broken glass on the inside
but as her
i can do it better, i can be loved for it

                      my mother loves her daughter.
.

once when i was a child
i sat in a field
surrounded by woods

and watched sparks leap from the fire to my clothes

i remember them dancing
and stinging skin hot
tiny freckle burns
dotting my arms

like stars

i remember the smoke
rising into the sky
and curling like a cat
caressing the darkness

as it twisted upwards and away away

the wood broke and the
scent of elderflower
filled me to the brim
with heady wild-smoke

and i remember thinking
big eyes filled with fire
my mouth just open and breathing the heat in

i want to run through that fire

to the other side within
.

They will know my name
I say
They will know my name
I claim

They will know my name
It's only fair
They will know my name
A promise, a dare

They will know my name
To tell tall tales to the young
They will know my name
Blazing bright as the burning sun

They will know my name
Spoken, crying, in a rush
They will know my name
To scream into the hush

They will know my name
To whisper in the night
They will know my name
They will know my might

They will know my name
Across the star-born universe
They will know my name
In the smallest places on Earth

They will know my name
Further than the eye can see
They will know my name
They will know me

They will know my name
For better or for worse
They will know my name
A blessing, a prayer, a curse

They will know my name
Let it give them pause
They will know my name
It will be written next to yours

I wonder, if I drifted off
Would he come for me
Would he brush his fingers through my hair
And take me in my sleep

Would he bring me into his arms
And cradle me close
Though no heartbeat could sound by my ear
Behind his pitch-dark robes

Would he carry me away
My prince on a pale horse
My own heartbeat fading, dwindling
Lost forever in pause

Some part of me wishes to greet him
Quickly, without delay
But my sweetheart knows his work
And I know I cannot stay

So I will place my feet on the ground
And spin with him once more, once again
Yet another parting flirtation before
I spin back into life’s fray

I cannot dance long with
This on-and-off lover of mine
Because when I run to him
He (always, always) leans in, whispers, gently

"This is not your time."

a small, dark shape is reflected in the large, round eyes of the owl
tilting its head, it watches the creature snuffling through the snow and listens to its feet move
it takes off from its branch with a shivering of ice

meanwhile, i pretend i dont know it can hear me and continue clambering along
i do not know if it would be better to look my death in the face


(red on white, the drops bounce)

Liquid silk drips from my fingers
My thirty eager fingers
Playing thirty eager chords
on my white and sprawling harp

Plucking at the strings
Like threads fine
silver and white
they shine
(it is night)

It is night and the world is dark
but for glimmering on my harp a single light
lamp like spotlight, hot overhead
i stretch my toes where they balance me on the ropes

sitting by cold glass
i watch the word go by
with my eight beady eyes
and wait for that promising fly
(it is night)

It is night and the word is still
but for my fingers plucking at the strings
of a heart-harp-home, contrast to my dark-clothed figure
silhouetted in the windowsill where i have a woven a tiny, quiet song

Sweat rolls down my back and my stomach swirls in agony
Oh that I am ill for you
Sick for your pleasure
My sweet lilac lady, purple princess of the pyre
Where my body burns and buzzes for your gentle love

Bane of the wolf and you chase the creature from my heart
I snap my teeth no more
The hood of the holy brother who looks over me
But you are the one divine

I cannot move for your care, numb of mind to your affection
Delicately lulling me into restfullness

And oh! There is pain
And I am frozen in place

But you sing my softly to sleep

My lips fail and stutter as you halt me in my breath
I am halfed now, never complete
You my other part, my other half
Stealing away my soul from the pit of my lungs
Your astounding beauty takes over me and
I am gone on you
Gone for you

And I drift- drift away with

My darling aconite who stays with me till the end

you are an unholy sort of beautiful
a rejection of divinity in every freckle and curve
in the dirt under your nails and the blood in your smile
your crooked nose and clever fingers screaming that you are godless

you dress yourself in an artless kind of humanity and revel in the shock it brings
hair and skin and dirt and all the warmth you can gather between two hands
you cup your heart in scarred palms like the very opposite of a benediction

you wear debauchery like a second skin
darling, you could **** god with a grin

and in the quiet...



                    in the quiet, we are fine

grey fairy
of ash, and inbetween
whispered its nothings to me
in the dark light of afterdusk
silent and still and ever screaming

on the parapet of city skyline
it perches without heed
the grey fairy of ash and nothing
smiles its grey smile and
beats its grey wings

oh my dear, are we not made of starstuff
are we not glittering like the night sky
smiling like nebulas and laughing like galaxies
we'll swing together in tandem
dancers to an antimatter beat
gas giants and red dwarfs watch on but
we only have eyes for each other

and
all the constellations know, dear
are we not the Alpha Centauri of the Earth