give it to me, God
can be a risky request.

immured in soft crystal, I felt
on the verge of crossing
borders and mostly unhinged
all winter.
my hair was combed,
my lips were never chapped,
I wore blush every day and
stockings with no
runs.   my tongue  was tied
so no one asked
what I needed.

chased an impartial sun
half of December
and spent the other half
soaked in flower essences.      I preferred
helenite draped in tiger’s eye so I’m more
sudden hot eruption than slow boil
but tonight I try more benevolent blooms
and pausing
watch my flimsy, cherry-dipped
ylang ylang fingertips
shake unsteadily
and without any observable provocation,
suddenly stop untying my velvet collar,
suddenly shy away from the mirror,
suddenly lunge and land
on my ball of green obsidian
delicately scraped from the bottom of some
extinct volcano;
still mired in sudden climax,
rinsed and smoothed for my
handling pleasure.  
it was
“heart chakra activating.”

for wisdom.
for understanding.
for love, for love, for
soft, soft
l       o   v e
with protection.
and my heart;
poor, twisted carnivore
always unsure of when
the next meal will come,
can shift her way into a
permanent snarl
“with protection.”

I stomp into the other room and
shatter the bowl
he let me borrow.
I leave it broken, shiny
on the kitchen’s peeling
strip my skin of clothes and scent in
a hot steam bath
and let the pieces
watch my step
around the house
for now.

my place,
cracked and full of red:
a carnelian web that
can’t be swept
and you see my long legs
dangling before you see
the rest of me.



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