Walking backwards, over the cracks, the broken glass, the crying shame.
Looking in and out. All the hostile visions I never want to see
They say to give is blessed, when in doubt give it all away.
we are each a universe, so many worlds, so many stars
we lose track
we look back
whoosh into the vastness of possible trajectories.
Without crossroads, without stones of demarcation,
we would fall upwards eternally.
I am digging a well,
a holding place for tears.
When the hole is of the right proportions
I will fashion a tight container of stone and clay.
The excavation uncovers rotten cadavers, old bones
twisted from unhealed violations, bits of broken treasures,
here and there
pieces of nursery toys no longer loved.
I crawl through the earth, exulting in sensuous pleasure.
Moving like a snake at home in the elements,
shedding my skin, becoming silky sinuous sense cells.
It is so beautiful here, under it all.
Fertile soil, made of the cast off, the ruined, the dead.
Seeds try again to perfect the expression of dna.
It would all fall together naturally.
But nature did not make me.
It was self-flagellating nurturance of worlds and stars
trying to cast off their earthly heritage.