|
SELVALUNA
Three nights awake,
coca, chicha, and waning gibous moon,
Cochabamba night
cold as October
in New England,
and something in the moon
calls me to you,
Selvaluna,
I want to slip my skin
and become a jaguar
wandering through
the jungles of the moon,
to the dark misty
riverbank where
i find you
under the southern cross,
and slide into
the dark waters
of your consciousness,
swimming through your dreams.
_________________________________
DESEO
Another Cochabamba night
under an unfamiliar sky,
and I want to grow
the wings of a moth
and fly north
into your Appalachian summer,
calling you out
wandering half asleep
through the wet grass
following a scent
that blew in through your window,
finding me
at the edge of the wood
where I come back to my body,
tongue fluttering against
your collarbone,
hands tracing the curve
of the small of your back,
but my magick
doesn’t work
here where the water
spirals widershins,
and these strange stars
won’t show me
the way home.
_________________________________
DELUGE
Memories rise like
a stream overflowing its banks:
the feral flash of your eyes,
mingled scents of sweat and sex and wet leaves,
deep breaths and rising heat
holding still at the edge of explosion
waters of memory
wash out the roads and bridges
of my consciousness,
enveloping me,
pulling me down
into dark cold water
slow ecstasy
stretched out to infinity.
________________________________
COYOTE SONG
When the sun came close
and seared your skin,
you ran into the desert
searching for the strange flower
that grew by the riverbed
that made a salve that could soothe the burning,
letting only the moon and the water
and the curanderos
touch your wounds,
searching for a bleached bone
you could carve into a flute
that would play you back
into a time
before naming.
I tried to follow your tracks,
but they circled back
on themselves
leading me to a ledge
where I watched the moon rise
and sang to it
then listened
for your howl.
_________________________________
|
