coaxing you back, you’ve been in touch and other senses,
the full thing
cackling at boxed remedies with disowned roots and perfume
some of your ways I saw pushing up daisies, but you knew
with eight legs of womb, the odd collecting caw
with peals of blue and pink emerald encased there would be roads excavated the lace of cobwebs holding
more explosions, implosions than the collective
of stars

coaxing you back, you’ve been black, silver
and every single burst of this
caught up in these failing wishes, new old golden chariots that
paw, claw dance around the dark
mercy for us, prayers for beauty
you lay off the pressure like a yawning diamond coil
throw me a few more yew seeds to feed our ink stain
singing however, not knowing how many tracks we are
to be given

my plants are black without ***** habits
their previous green whispering
of dirt jewels, pearl leaves
I killed
with the fire of safety


a deep cutting will grow into something
if you let it
let it be splendid
a jade negative
lush with breathing

Suffer with grace the moment
Forgive your wish to clasp pain long gone
Nostalgia is more leaden than lead itself
Gold of birds in mute winglessness

Jump with grace from The Tower
Mount glorious dull Star that allows your seeing
The chamber is not destined to be your secret
Lament your mortar, keep on building

Radical rest is not dead blood
In static you hear nothing of ecstatic colour
Purpose hides in tiny infinite
A chariot lies behind the tumour

****** the ticking that can’t be bothered
Stop its blood without losing a drop
Bear agony of flowers knowingly beautiful
Be yourself sweet nothing one

Swirling round the original wound
They loiter sprint on imagined limbs
Wrinkled orb thus far removed
Remembers furling glitter wings

My crown I raise to indigo stars
As dreams cascade in burgeoning cells
****** from earth in candle hymns
I capture crow, my shadow nymph

Siphoning words from fingers cupped
With lips I sieve forgotten glyphs
In blackness click the spirit prayers
Engulfed I heed                    surrendering

They hate that we stop clinging, try to surgically glue us back to branches that are no longer our home
We fall, provoking, for maidens and mothers are coming and we must cede, reach for destined roots, furrow down like our etchings this time round
Our bones are thin whispers at every trunk storing our emerging crone song. We are crushed as our wrinkles are blown up, gushing wisdom in ruby, copper and gold
We are pushed into mounds echoing every impersonal violence to our subjected younger bodies
Well, witch please
I demand my wrinkles be removed from the firing line of instant disposal, be allowed to mark out some path for some sisters IF they want it
and if they want it
ONLY

This knot cradled us with good intention
Protected us from rainbows
Confused by silver sphere in moody portions
It dissolves, black-hearted
Leaves oil, knowingly perfumed
Golden pink
Meshed with scarlet spills
Winowing 

Widowing
Drawing the petalled net
Void entered
So we sit
With disappointed, endless sky
To be touched by one star is enough
To be really born
To be crushed is a hug of
Sweet welcome

swimming pools filled by trunkless elephants
plastic plates cleared of crumbs of witches
dead eyes soldered to stapled bellies

following a memorized sun
in plush toy boats
shaded with logos veneers as anchors

every smile is the smear of a dead wingspan
every petal now smelt on the emperor's robe
where is the kind and how is the encore?