Sunday, February 22, 2009
Trying to make sense of what we know we cannot
When ruffled panties cut with satin slide over skin
The third eye opens and the heart is flush.
Muscle movements tighten like a schoolgirl crush
like exposed nerves in a tooth you forgot
while eating ice cream once,
it hurts but
in a good way, like sunshine and sunburn.
Then sucking backwards into the gravity of the clothes,
The gravity of the heels, which like an anchor
Lock the hips.
Sometimes it is as if the tide had knocked you on your knees
and ripped you out,
the beach deep
out and bright
as a lung spark
Sometimes you can make it back, sometimes
You’re adrift for days.
Dear God, can one live for so many years without stepping over the edge?