**** me quietly in the current of the Caspian That calloused-caviar undertow Petroleum-pierced fragmented bone You whispered things no child should know And I was no child then Trembling hands I emerge from the lion’s den Wearing memory like white lines on the insides of my wrists Until I forget they’re there Blue eyes, blonde hair Painted mouth and vacant stare Here is who I have become
So kiss me quietly in the white-capped waves of the Caspian My lips a promise sealed in black oil and blood Hear the water tank trickle fill and flood See the volcanoes burst with sacred mud And feel my skeptical smile Spectacle-clad you read my file It’s been a while since I relived all of this
And I’m deciding if it’s far too late or far too soon To begin to deconstruct our interactions The repulsion, the attraction The actions and reactions That defined that interim allotment of time I sit here now retracing your lines On the rickety map in the back of my mind Memory, so mute, so blind And ripping down the track so quickly Thrown back so sickly-bitterly Like salt-lime-tequila
My memory has been mutilated Slaughtered, drained and skinned Treated, chopped and trimmed And now I place it on a table in the street Tell me, can you hear the pattern of its late heartbeat As you grip a fleshy dripping pound of it in your hand My memories are no-man’s land
So caress me carefully in the cool-calm caves of the Caspian Recall the strange sounds of the early days Sacred grounds, hot-garbage haze Sandy winds, the bazaar maze That made me acutely aware of the incomplete Not even joyful summer heat Could keep me from floating feet-up in the Georgian river Memory smile, convulse and shiver
I intended this to be a reconciliation Call me queen of counterproductive apology Let’s redefine astrology To gain some favour from the stars Russian salad and white box cars Deep *** holes in Badamdar Truthfully I’ve never known who you really are And I probably never will
But cut me kindly in the clouds above the Caspian This is as close as we can get Ignorant prejudice my one regret But I have not forgotten all the good And I will try to love you like I should But tell me, is it better to have memories that lie Or have nothing at all? Shall I embrace the distortions or the abyss? **** me carefully or give me a kiss Tell me, what am I to do with this? Cut me open or caress me Call me child or undress me Your impassive smile does not impress me Tell me, how am I to process this?
I’ve swam your sea, I’ve coughed your air I let you stroke and steal my sandy hair I left without once looking back No pillar of salt No pile of ash No blame or fault Or debt or cash But still the walls begin to crack I feel the stitches start to tear Murky-memory drags me eastward by my fresh-grown hair Forcing my eyes, so-cold and ever-blue ever deeper into you, the dark heart of the Caspian