I Write Occasionally

United States

writer and poet | 17

Message to Readers

There is so much left to say


April 2, 2019

dipping your toes in
the deep end-
how much love
your heart could

kiss me like you are the moon,
says your mother,
with her ragged pelt
and sharp teeth-

you are her only child
to survive the sunrise-

she bathes you in starlight
and cuts your skin,
weans you on her tears,
so you love her-

and you have never feared
the dark-

drunk on sunshine,
your feet tangled in
the meadows
where you were

here the wildflowers
strangle you
in nectar-sticky words
promising a zenith, an adventure

you have forgotten the
but the buck
you slaughtered in the
deep sylvan wood

carved out the rations
on a dry tongue
and said
child, i have known hunger-

and you split his heart
and broke his spine
and tore his hooves-

so you hunt, unsatisfied,
craving order,
but your breath smells of ash
and you taste only entropy

drinking from the ocean feels
like choking on oil,
and you have no more
water to drink

this is absolute zero,
your bones are made 
of dark matter,
and you do not move

dipping your toes in
the deep end-
how much love
your heart could

and I wonder if i could yet die,
says your mother, 
nursing still children at her
belly; her eyes marble,
pups drinking stone milk

you are ravenous
after the fasting of winter,
so you eat
Verschlimmbessern (v), to make something worse in the act of trying to improve it


See History
  • April 2, 2019 - 7:15pm (Now Viewing)

Login or Signup to provide a comment.