Mother of Nine

 

 

    it’s the spelling time\ light must be brought

    to the dark

    mass heaving in your chest

    (earth) with (scrapped up metal) served on (broken trees and roofs) tingling with(still glowing headlights and torches) the musty taste of

    (blood/ sweat/ tears/unrealized memories)

    ozone<<<<<<<<<

    you are elemental

    simultaneous

    irrevocable

     

     

    the dust aches at her advance

    thirsty/ it rises to her breast/ hoping

    for droplets|

    finding the unforgiving coarseness

    of beautiful senna hide

    and flight.

     

     

    we cling to your dress      flies

    hidden in short coarse hair|

    stuck on your fine skin

    / afefele/ mesmerized by its hidden smoothness

    struck dumb

    by the cadence of swinging tail.

     

     

    the whisk seems to talk

    tells of battles and babies/ great deals on the corner

    impossible trades in the marketplace

    amassed, we wait among the fibers

    of squawk and murmur

    squeezed by the pressure

    of tight purple sky

     

     

    flash of light

    momentary illumination

    as sudden darkness

    settles in for a long visit

    the sound of metal

    meeting the resistance

    of air pressure is all we will never

    remember.

     

     

     

    Iansã,

    If I went home

    and found you there

    should I say,

    "Hey momma! Glad

    to know that every

                  goodbye

    ain't gone."

    Or should I smirk,

    Say "What's up , girl?

    See you got a

    new way

                  uh wearin yo

                                              hair."

    Or should I coo

    and offer you a lollipop

    coated with butterflies.

    Momma o' Nines

    Sister to Death & Time

    Lover of Domination

    Bringer of Revolution

    Clearer of Unseen Passageways,

    if I bowed my head

    down,

                  in honor and respect

    would you whack it off,

                  or bless it.

     

     

    a sharp toothed point

     

                           wicked tongue

     

                                      voracious eyes

     

                                                  dare we ask

                                                    for clarification

                                            a stitch in time

     

                                  of the ninth hour

     

              the invisible nullifier…

    dare we?

     

     

    rhythm waits

    all its beats

    for hips like hers.

    slight, but determined

    her haunches know

    how to work it,

    grind that thing down

    into pleasurable submission

    winni                    winni

     

     

    the swirling is more focused| more purposeful

    than we'll ever know

    just as quickly as you collected it all

    you dump it\ jumping across tombstones

    laden in the wealth of the dead

    luxuriating in the inevitability of it all

    first breath drawn/ last breath

    gone|

    efufulele oia afefelele oia

    iba o!

     

 

 

 

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