Mediterranean, 2004
two girls, fifteen
fresh from white sea
undress below
sweet water
this time waves tumble
from above
these girls
itch
an army of ants
in every fold
of white towel and wall
their legs trail
blood
shower to bedroom
wet towels
around breasts
these girls trail
blood
on ceramic tiles
blood
stains ceramic
briefly
perfect spheres
vertical
ellipses
wet girls trail
blood constellations
black curls
outlines of clouds across
ceramic sky
girls
trail blood
across god’s sky
October in Too Many Syllables
a duplex after Jericho Brown
Before I loved you, the figs were still in season.
My body was a lone fig swollen like summer.
My body was a lonely fig swollen like summer,
In every dream as bottomless as shame.
To be naked in your dream is a sign of shame.
My father stood outside each dream with a key.
All fathers keep keys to their daughters’ dreams,
I learned in a meeting with the Architect of Dreams.
I woke cursing the Architect of Dreams.
I changed every lock & locked myself
In the blueprints of pride. Love locked myself
For a minute in a fall without light.
Like figs we fall a minute before daylight.
Before I loved you, the figs were still in season.
***
Rumpus original logo art by Mina M. Jafari.
