Crying as if from a Dream

We felt the weight of oranges in our limbs
In our loins, we knew we wouldn’t
Be young forever, that even love

Was temporary for a purpose
Driving home, it was all so clear
Your white face, my womb of light

Our electric skin against the
20s something fever of our memoriam
Our permission to be free and reckless
Our dream was the Earth crumbling
And our child could be our redemption

Somehow nature impregnated us with
This little idea, called the future
Each generation fell for it like

The luminous blueprint of tomorrow
We worked so hard just so tomorrow would make it
On time, and in the right way

According to our cultural expectation of it
And if tears could burn in the
Back of our throat, they would now
In the memory of love written on skin
And the promises of forever that seemed
So real and tangible back then….

No Home like Femininity

Lying in bed I almost mistake Good health for youth Moonlight on the floor For memories of your skin Looking up I see the cold light For what it is, birthplace Source, cool strength Like your body that carried me …

Your Body is my Museum of Youth

I am dumb beside your body
I could once speak words, so beautifully
But poems, were once beautiful

Now I feel life’s kite moving
Upwards and onwards
You love because it pulls you

To Motherhood, to creation
I am dumb beside the challenge
Of winning your affection

To become only a tool, a means to an end
Until someone finds me, I shall be
The lonely hunter, contracting with solitude

I am dumb beside your instincts
They speak more loudly, than my lyrics
Unworthy and pure, poetry
Is for the flowers I left on the ground
In my meditations of youth.