Listen:
I discipline my waist
and lean
against the heated coconut.
The day is gray as a face,
and my sin
clear as the hoofmarks
in the carmine.
What is God to me
but an open-mouthed
stranger?
I stepped across a viper
and still
the forked tongue
flickers in my hollow.
You see, my lust
will never
know death nor harvest:
elixir of hellebore, colocynth
salt, stick,
and mouse shit.
I run in circles
and bathe in the hateful river.
This grain, this
wild greedy thing
he’s left me plumping
so paltry
and mulish.
Mercury, mandrake—
I am only a girl
with this brilliant black
nest of eagerness.
Over and over, my mother
calls to me,
my name
a reckless ribbon
in the gloaming.
When the clouds part
like stupid lovers,
I close my eyes and press
myself against
the eucalyptus tree.
I let the leaches
crawl until nightfall.
