The Grandmother comes as soon as I close my eyes. There is no “when” other than this shell that she is holding, Conch? I wonder. Abalone, oyster? No response. Wrong question. She stands on the beach, tangy green wavelets surge … Continue reading →
Speak my Name silently, Or by removing the vowels, Leaving mostly gristle, the toughest parts. Call me She Who Heals, She Who Has Visions, One Who Laughs Aloud. Sacrifice requires toughness. A lift of the chin to expose the throat, … Continue reading →
The part of me that was once moist,
The ground where the spring wells
Through the Earth – That part of me –
Gone… She’s a dried up mud flat,
Cracked hard pan.
Croning – is not juicy. Not moist.
More like hammered steel: forged, flattened, and
Flaccid, professionally palpated twice a year, searching for tumors, It is stroked rhythmically, as needed, To sweep pooled lymph fluid toward a new delta. The nipple dares not responds to pleasure. With indrawn breath, it lays low, shrinking from the … Continue reading →
Our library has two floors, with sixteen stairs between them. “Nothing That is Not For My Good Can Enter Here” I chant Sixteen times, pushing my golden force field past my finger tips, As I rise, nauseous, to serve the … Continue reading →
Who is this “me” that expresses thanks? So much spirit in a carrier oil. This moment — This pumpkin pie curd Smashed against strong teeth — This coffee, dark, at the end of a meal — My heart unbuttoned, … Continue reading →