Looking, I see the
crafted scab buttons you fasten and press
in the unforgiven sun of our salt baked road.
& again, no peace, in this landscape of devouring green
no gods without faces to call you back.
Even the trees have needles here.
Still as the sun,
I have given up on licking your wounds.
I have given up on buying your pretense with my prayers.
Strangers congratulate me for keeping you alive so long,
I am stopped on the streets
I am hailed savior – just some vehicle for your survival
some girl-child you chose to choose when choice was small.
These homeless crows obey me
& beg me give back their feathers I burned for you
You are not here, I have asked for too much.
It burns to think of you. Burns to mourn you while you move.
Your smoke is in my eyes.
& the guardians of bitter boys circle
my mistakes in their mouths
scared to lose you
scared you are forgetting to breathe
Will you sing for them? They want you to sing. Sing for them. Be their broken bird.
Later I will ask,
who is this?
In this photograph, in this lake; this bathtub; this mirror
Reflecting me back
to this when where who leaves?
Still I fear blue eyes. Again I look away. & you survive.