she’s facing away

i am ready for you so write through me,
breathe right into the well of my calling
and let the voices glisten, let it glow.
i have seen the state of your life
in worn out dressers, the velvet shine,
eyes smoldered with the ashes of men
who die at the charge of your thighs
by the great call and the falling rise.
this is love, you lie. love is you
with your ear pressed to his chest.
love is you heaving sacraments,
heaving body and wine, anointed
in the light of a lamp without a shade,
hair in tussles, out of breath the braid
of a woman who drags her tongue. she
who drags the wedding band, the golden ring,
the vows all bruised and bitten purple into the skin.
love is you spent on the morning, legs wading in the sheets
between the whispers, the reeds, the way they fornicate in threes
with the windows open, the curtains drawn, the cry,
the flutter of lives divided in their youth, breathing in
a water that revives all thirst and
there is you, there is him, but there’s no release.


-e.r

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