COME
An urgent call ignites the body, trembling open to a divine name.
Read more →Heavy with milk, mother-sky offers starlight patterns, guiding her small, dense question through gentle darkness.
Heavy with my milk, you move
your compact body, though I hold
you dense under a constellation
whose sparse lights ache over you.
If, looking up, you recognize
the shadowing of curves that casts
towards my belly, and the way
my nipples travel, like two stars
You are a question, small and dense,
and I am an answer, long diffuse
and dark, but I want to be sky
for you so, like the stars, I lie,
holding my far lights wide and flat
in pictures for your eyes to take,
spaced easily, so you can catch
the patterns in your sleepy net.
From Earth Days: Poems, Chants, and Spells in Five