Tears The crystal rags Viscous tatters Of a worn-through soul Moans

A Rock, A River, A Tree Hosts to species long since depart… Marked the mastodon, The dinosaur, who left dried token… Of their sojourn here

Pretty women wonder where my secre… I’m not cute or built to suit a fa… But when I start to tell them, They think I’m telling lies. I say,

You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I’ll rise. Does my sassiness upset you?

When you come to me, unbidden, Beckoning me To long-ago rooms, Where memories lie. Offering me, as to a child, an att…

Your smile, delicate rumor of peace. Deafening revolutions nestle in th… cleavage of your breasts

Your hands easy weight, teasing the bees hived in my hair, your smile at th… slope of my cheek. On the occasion, you press

When I was young, I used to Watch behind the curtains As men walked up and down the stre… Young men sharp as mustard. See them. Men are always

One innocent spring your voice meant to me less than tires turning on a distant street. Your name, perhaps spoken,

I keep on dying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,

You drink a bitter draught. I sip the tears your eyes fight to… A cup of lees, of henbane steeped… Your breast is hot, Your anger black and cold,

When love is a shimmering curtain Before a door of chance That leads to a world in question Wherein the macabrous dance Of bones that rattle in silence

I keep on drying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,

I note the obvious differences in the human family. Some of us are serious, some thrive on comedy. Some declare their lives are lived

Beloved, In what other lives or lands Have I known your lips Your Hands Your Laughter brave