Two poems originally published in ELKE journal, which is no more.
Words I Need From My Sister
for Carla
In the morning, I notice a tangle
of new bird tongues.
A conversation in the bushes
continues without us.
Dear sister,
if you remember the secret
land we found in the
woods behind the house,
magic words we turned in circles
to enter safety— please tell me.
What we say now is diaper-tired
Seussical magpie, a mysterious
language thrust onto loving tongues.
But the words are not ours.
The magic is foreign landing.
This Night
This night is what fractals divine
from sticks like honey to fingers,
its form, a postage stamp I liked
before geometry. The sight
of love’s bare ankle is not the same
as having seen its Achilles’ heel.
One cover forbids the other.
Let me ogle what smashes
against the windshield of prior
roadkill. The love you hoped to learn
from bewildered carcass lips.
I covet the marvel of quivering
thighs, jiggling flesh, and
what I love of you is excess.
The fat I don’t eat from meat.
The craving one carves off.