Poems

This Craving and this Me

This butterfly
where did it come from?
How so amber?           When did it alight on the cup handle?
When         on the strap of your petticoat?
And me        where did I stumble
as you smiled?
Where in your voice
did I lose myself?
 
This flower
when did it arrive          and why         so turquoise
to first circle your navel
and then examine where my lips have been?
 
Woman,
something must have happened         or not
for you to reject the past
ward off your ancestors
and expunge
the hollow words
tired phrases         tattered lines         and pompous voices
 
This butterfly
this flower          this craving and this me?
 
 
October, 2007