She comes here,
consumes nothing,
offers all
but what I desire.
Folds my laundry,
teaches me Thai,
goes down on me.
Massages my shoulders
to tempt sleep
in restless sheets.

But I cannot write
a lullaby
with her sleeping soundly,
like a lie,
by my side.

I.
I breathed in each toxic
story of relatives
departed or deported
that left you with nothing
but gerbera daisies
next to gravestones.

II.
I tried to diffuse
my scholarly ambitions,
to fill in the blanks
on your applications,
to change your histology
to help you evolve.

III.
My body rejected you.
My alveoli ached
to be free and breathe.
My chordae tendinae
were pulled too taut
and tore.

IV.
I caved into myself
with no other choice
but to detoxify.


*November 13, 2014
10:27:16 PM

It is you.
The witch of the forest.
Hidden between the tall, dark trees.
Of my soul.
It has always been you.
Who lights a burning flame inside my deep corners.
I have always loved you.
Even before I was me.
Even before the earth was born.

The witch in the forest

I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it----

A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a **** lampshade,
My right foot

A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin
0 my enemy.
Do I terrify?----

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.

Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me

And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.

This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.

What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see

Them unwrap me hand and foot
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies

These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.

The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut

As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

Dying
Is an art, like everything else,
I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.

It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical

Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:

'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart----
It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby

That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash ---
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there----

A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.

Color floods to the spot, dull purple.
The rest of the body is all washed-out,
The color of pearl.

In a pit of a rock
The sea ***** obsessively,
One hollow thw whole sea's pivot.

The size of a fly,
The doom mark
Crawls down the wall.

The heart shuts,
The sea slides back,
The mirrors are sheeted.

Better that every fiber crack
and fury make head,
blood drenching vivid
couch, carpet, floor
and the snake-figured almanac
vouching you are
a million green counties from here,

than to sit mute, twitching so
under prickling stars,
with stare, with curse
blackening the time
goodbyes were said, trains let go,
and I, great magnanimous fool, thus wrenched from
my one kingdom.

i saw you in the moon

it was comforting. most people attribute their
       (eternity)
special someone to the sun. you were never that for me.
you were many countless, irreplaceable, unknown qualities
that i wanted. none of them were glaringly obvious.
besides, i am never in the light.
i am always in the dark.
       (the deep and lovely dark)
i am never lost there. i never needed a star to guide me home –
i was home already.
what i wanted
       (craved)
was the steady presence to remind me
that i was not alone.
the moon is always there, you know – even when you can’t see it.
so, i look up as night falls
       (that black curtain sweeping down, down)
and hope you’re somewhere
       (happy)
nearby, looking at that round rock in the blackness,
outshining all the rest.
i know it’s not a star, but i make a wish anyway:
your name
       (a prayer, whispered)
followed by three little words.