1
the sting of the serpent was soft
and lingering as a kiss,
I thought the god had bruised my heel
with his shining mouth.
the dark, sudden,
a hurried descent
into the tangled roots of night.
I am a voice without speech,
dancing
struggling to rise through a white sea
that clings tight as grave cloths
around my bones.
2
I am a memory of love
abandoned, a subject
for painters and musicians,
a sacrifice to myth.
Why did you love me so?
you men and gods,
cupping me like water
in the palm of your desire,
I dropped like a stone
into the pool
of the great shadow.
3
he was glad
and smiled, in the dark,
when I surrendered.
his teeth are white,
his hair is black,
his house is rank
with the dark decay
of the heart.
his skin insists
on the scaffold of bones,
the structure of teeth,
taut wires of muscle
in the claws of his hands,
in the cage of his body.
he wears the deaths head
lightly, I imagine it a mask,
a thin disguise of every face
that stalks the mind.
4
I remember you, Orpheus,
your harp, your flute,
silver under the torches
before the colonnaded temples.
the buildings arced towards you,
trees bent their arms to your song,
grew ears instead of leaves,
and birds revolved above your head
in a fantastic dance of clouds.
the people danced in the market,
danced carelessly as leaves
in the wind, or flowers,
within the strict geometry
of streets and houses.
few animals remain in this country,
the city is a web of bars, and grids,
prisons for soft flesh, and hearts.
those few listened,
listened, and breathed
the breath of your song,
your voice, surrounded you,
rats and mice, cats and dogs,
snakes and frogs, furry
creatures I cannot name,
came to the net of your voice,
woven for hearts to catch in,
none escape, the mesh
is fine, very fine.
5
this story tells itself,
(do not look my love)
erects a barricade,
stands, against the fear,
there is the purple sea
around your shoulders,
the blue headlands
and orange dawn
above your hair,
Let us resurrect
beside the Minoan temples
along the Aegean Sea,
you can sing for the bulls,
they will dance
in grace, in beauty,
with slim-waisted boys and girls,
they die lamenting your voice,
and the seduction of your harp.
Let us worship the snake goddesses,
I will dress my hair and cinch my waist,
we will be happy.
(is it too soon
for resurrection?
the name of Lazarus burns the air,
forshadows the salt of doom
I taste on my lips)
we are a different tale
bent to another plan.
6
I am silent,
(do not look my love)
the wind blows through me,
my body bends like a reed,
my mouth shapes a tunnel,
my feet are ripples in the pond
where the reeds grow.
my hair is a tissue of clouds
and rian, my eyes are pools
(be blind my love)
of standing water, my lips,
two fish, under the heavy sea,
my breasts are hills,
round under the green grass.
you will not see me
if you turn
I am the breath of wind
stirring the small bones
of the long dead,
rustling under the cathedral
of their ribs,
with a thin dry music.
I am a cedar on the path,
a red cedar (do not look,
my love, do not look)
a stone, a twig,
a leaf, a snail
curled in a spiral shell.
7
the sun circles your hair
and it is gold, the hills
clap their green hands,
the rivers laugh
and the willows dance.
we are filled with light
(look at them)
there is sunlight on the shore
of the blue headland (look!)
I am a voice without speech,
my heart floods your veins
with a red tide under your skin,
my black hair waves
in long fine tresses,
a flag of battle, around you.
8
he falters on the path
(look at the purple sea,
it ebbs and flows in tides
under the suns and moons of all eternity)
he stops
(look at the hills
and the willows there,
they are a tent prepared for sleep
and the warm embrace of arms,
see where the bed stands
under the hanging gardens
of the green willow tree)
he turns
the sun is silver
through his hair,
then white
before the dark
from Blue Minds Flower