Friday, March 8, 2013

Because We've Lived Before

My withered wife my gnarl root hands
dance partner lover and fucker time
companion who's seen my
skin paper and thin and break apart and become
smaller pieces of paper that get buffeted into
uncomplicated vortices of breath memory
our child daughter before
her legs broke open and she became a distorted mirror
wife mother weeping womb you are a food
for us a pear or a pomegranate seed and
always milk and meat and the
horse that brought it through the
January snow by the banks of
some dream creek in a book in bed in
one of my many past lives.

1 comment:

  1. This is awesome. Like M.C. Escher verbalized.

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