in silences adored and silkened embrace
in silences adored and silkened embrace
i shed my body, its skin a fragrant
papershell a narcissus
i shed it again and again
under the old motherly moon
i shed it in dreamings womb
and always it remains the same
wrinkled and smooth

soft body of sunflowers
body of iris blue and yellow body
you taste and smell of olives
and geraniums
with the strength of stones
you settle on the earth

and i shed you
like light on a mountain
under the sea
or a robe fresh woven
falling gracefully to the ground
when we kneel, dark orchid,
the nightgown of your body unfolds
the flower of your hips,
like when the rain comes down
with her black tresses.
and, everywhere, loose death
shakes her earrings
at our feet.
green omens shift
from one foot to another
at the river of voices
and i hear my soul,
wailing like a prisoner of talismans,
and signs.
on the first day,
i opened my eyes wide into
my mother’s milk,
then slept.

on the second day,
my heart was stone,
i dashed it to the ground,
and at my mother.

on the third day,
your milk, sweet queen of bees,
was my honey and bitters.
i drank it all.

on the fourth, fifth and sixth days,
i saw the moon with her bull’s horn
of pearl
swimming through the trees.
you chased after her.

now, the seventh day has come,
i cast off broken bones
the hard wrinkles in my forehead,
swimming after you both,
asking for forgiveness.