Poems

This Craving and this Me

This butterfly
Where              did it come from?
How, so amberish, when          did it sit on the cup handle?
When               on the strap of your underwear?
And where on your smile
Did I become so clumsy?
On what part of your voice
Did I lose myself?
 
This dandelion
When did it come        and why           so turquoise?
To circumambulate  your navel first
And inspect the trace of my lips next?
 
Woman!
Something should have/ have not happened    suddenly
For you to repeatedly warn your dead
Reject your ancestors
And cross
The hollow words
Worn-out phrases        ragged  lines      and pompous voices
 
This butterfly
This dandelion             this craving  and this me?
 
 
October, 2007