Open Window

I filled the ‘O’ in LOVE with black
after you broke my heart.
You slipped into the dark hole
of memory, my source of nightmares.

She spoke French.
I spoke heartbreak.
You said swear words
I didn’t know existed.

I opened the window and
thought about jumping, but
I worried you wouldn’t hear
the thud, and the trees’
branches would catch me.

I threw out all your stuff
and her flimsy dresses.
I saw a pink one, fitted,
slinky, and imagined it
clinging to a body
like betrayal.

The clothes hung on
to the trees, flares of love
signaling my rescue from above.

Advertisements

Rising of the Womb

We live in concrete structures
In houses and towering apartments
And need to meditate to feel
The earth beneath us
I sat a long time and felt
The earth below the base
Of my body
The house stood on firm ground
I could feel it rise to meet me
At my bed as I lay down
Oh Mother
I have missed you
Why must I wait so long
To see you
And she said
Why must I wait so long
For you to hear me
I’m always with you
In the morning light
And the moon that peels
Away your sadness.
The air in your home
Came from somewhere
The womb of breathing
Is not just for babies
You are the newly born
Awake, awake to this day
You are water, dear,
Running for your life
Just close your eyes
And the dirt will appear
Between your toes
And sprout new plants
In your mind like wishes
Instead of sinking
See yourself being held
By my hands.

klimt-kopfstudie-mit-geschlossenen-augen-nach-rechts

Cover image is Danaë, by Gustav Klimt.

Image above is Head of a Woman with Closed Eyes, Looking Right, by Gustav Klimt.

Female Wolf

Dear Former Beloved

Thank you for being the man in the dark room of my dreams. Your intrusions as the predator of the psyche shook me awake. Your force called the wild woman within.

(Are the people in our lives just lessons, just moments of time that teach us to shed the shit that cakes our muddy paws? Can a she-wolf find her mate and stop having nightmares?)

You showed me the killing room in my head, and I nearly threw away the key. Near death, I crawled my way out into the light.

And then, you came into my sleep. I held a baby—ours—and you turned your head away. On awakening, I wondered if I could survive the rejection. But now I know that I was being reborn and this meant everything.

Pleading for time, I gathered my strength for the first and final battle: letting you go.

The forbidden door was opened and the stench of starvation willed me to feed the soul cry. From the bones laid on the deathbed, the Bone Woman reconstructed me. I, a wild woman, rose from the ashes of sacrifice.

Now, I stalk the intruder back to his dark corner. And off I run into the horizon, laughing, howling like a coyote.

Thank you.


Inspired by the book I just finished reading: Women Who Run With the Wolves, by Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Ph. D.