Friday, January 7, 2011

they curl when they go

March 17, 2010

Flowers curl when they come, they curl when they go
Innocent each time
I hold you in my heart as my way of letting you go
You are now with me wherever I am
I don’t need to be home to kiss you on your head or feed you
Or hold you or give you warmth or medicine or love
You are with me in my travels, outside and in
To my sacred love, my sweetest girl, I offer you myself forever
I will always give you whatever you need
And now I ask of you to be with me forever
Also hold me in forever in your love
I know where your shell is buried, under a perfect stone
I’ve placed you with beautiful rose and gold
Wrapped in royal bees from Paris and on your heart I’ve laid
The clearest and purest citrine crystal – a lemony pyramid top
And cloudy base
To protect you I give you my most beautiful rock
I will always continue to give to you, my dearest little girl
That is what I thought I missed most, was to give my self to you
But I realize I can still
I lit the ends of the two blue candles, the ones I extinguished before you left
I lit them again this morning.
In a ceremony of healing and accepting
You made a faint noise when I got up around midnight to blow them out
Your faint noise I still hear
I anointed you with my hands wet from open window rain
I laid back down with you still in my arms
And I held you
And I spoke to you
My darling girl
I laid and you laid on me
I slept and you slept on me
Minutes past and on my waking you were gone
Still on me, still your weight
You’d gone.
Surreal, this can’t be happening, your lifeless form
Still beautiful, my girl, still somehow there
No no no no no.  this isn’t happening.
No.  I’m not letting you go.  The weight in my arms.  Pepe. 
Your little head.
I kiss
After time I bring you with me and lay you on the linen in the hall
I clean you with cloths and it seems it will never end
I clean you and clean you and clean you, my sweet girl, I cleaned you
Then remove my soiled clothes and clean them and clean myself
Without thought I throw the soiled things away, and your box
I went to a place of organizing,
A strange place in my  head
Even in the shower, I felt strange for leaving you on the floor
I had to get back to you
And turned out all the lights, kept the sconce candles on
I held you
In disbelief I held you for hours
In the morning I held you again
Now you’re buried beneath moss on the bluff
I still hold you


I suppose I should wash those linens in the hall
The ones that used to be on the sofa
The ones you my love had peed on while lying in your last hours
I suppose I should change my sheets
The ones with the small spot on them
Looking at your footprints in the sand of your bathroom box
I find that hard to discard
I love to see your footprints

I placed your pillow back where it always was
I’m just used to it

I suppose I should clean this apartment I’ve been neglecting
That at least I can do

Your pills arrived the day before you died
Somewhere between life and final death we are always dying



And I’ve seen you before

The last time I saw you you were dead
I never had to ask you to come over- you were always there.

Her name is March.  I met her in April


From the grapevine, of what I’ve heard of my life
At least what they say of me
When I’m trying to sleep they wake me with my selves
And I experience coincidences like there’s no tomorrow
I learn of their meanings, the significances, the walls they throw
Hiding behind their truths blending in the possible futures
Of skeletons and computers
Digital voices of the past
I lost my children
My consequences
Playing the piano I don’t know
Through days I don’t know
All the titles in flight, the repairs of shame
In waves of blue light I swell in sullen seas
Ashore in my identities
I calm in conversations
Under the words of truth
Swollen in small curls
There are all the forgotten girls
Blue in the face
Of other lives
Precious in growth
In love
Sunshine in forgiveness

Do you remember the packets of love?



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