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Jun 2019
The desert is not the grave of the sea.

The heaving reign of pharaohed seas,
Rule in bloodline of palm wine and embalming fluid of brine.
The tides are their mummified lips,
Whispering the coming forth of spells eternally to the sky.  
All goddesses, like shawled Isis, in lamentations of hair
And past-wept somnolence for Egypt,
Lie across the heart-bound murmur of waters
From their dead kings and the kingly divine, Amun-Ra,
Whose bird-starred eyes fill the canopic jar of the cosmos.

The sea is the grave of the desert.
“Palm wine” and spices were used to rinse out the abdomen of the remains.

The Egyptian Book of the Dead was a phrase coined in the 19th century.  A more literal translation is The Book of Coming Forth by Day or Spells for Going Forth by Day.

The heart was actually the only ***** left intact in the mummified dead. The other organs were kept in canopic jars though some were rebound and reinserted into the mummified remains.

For a slide video of this and other poems, please check out my Instagram page at chrissaitta or my Tumblr page at Chris-Saitta.
Chris Saitta
Written by
Chris Saitta  49/M/Virginia
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