I watched her put on the white dress
and ruin her manicure
because she could not keep her
twisting in her lap
hands still
a wedding cake mess
with too much lipstick
and a groom who knew
as much as she did
and she was never me
All she ever dreamed in the devout hours
of page turn prayers
was of the way love might feel
undiluted raw-root and essence
For her, it had only ever been
soul silent unrequited
slow blink and look away love
for Orthodox faith had failed
her, and there was no space
the plans had been in place for years
written, signed and sealed
in her yearly birthday cards
the blessing to grow up and build
a 'binyan adei ad'
a Jewish edifice of a home
based on the laws of the Torah
the rest of her life was details
and thirteen years elapsed
as wife in skirt and a wig
while "man tracht un God Lagt"
The plans of men rose and fell
the laughter of God
flowed as always
along with the woman's
profound quiet loneliness
A soul stranger to the man
called husband and Father
to the children
even wrapped in each others
arms, him inside her
closer then hell fire's
breath on her neck
she could never meet his eyes
curled up alone
in her rib cage-bred heart
that beats the ice drum
of wrong, wrong, wrong
and she knows now
with the clarity of sunrise
and now he knows too
soak her to the skin
as a burnt offering
in the temple of torrents
and tears that cleanse her of sin
for that rather then this existence
of shrouds and lies and
God sanctioned emptiness
rises and roars in her ears
and her throat
the scream of a summer hurricane
she climbs and she climbs
up the steps of the building
and plans to leap
and to fly for a moment
What is life without truth, without love
without touch, without dreams
and a moment of flight is
almost
like falling
in love
In memory of the storm
Somehow swept
into the paper heart maelstrom
a handwritten fragment of a
shredded love letter
seized in a barbed wire whirligig
and me, the battered veteran
wept for rationality
The surge, was wicked,
sharp and savage
to love then-like a love-that has never loved
a spiral sensual seismic need
so keen it pulsed
like the minute hand of a schoolroom clock
waiting for the bell
an illicit kiss of shock
as stones thrown by my neighbors
met their mark, and matter
and shattered the windows
of my soul in audible
stage whispers
the screech of ice as it clinks and falls
flailing into a glass of water
and shard blades spread and splinter
in slow motion
and bite into flesh that wills it
in a kaleidoscopic pattern
like a hand sewn quilt
for the lovers bed
Pick up a handful of stones
hurl them true at my breast and bones
so I can watch the bruises bloom
a legible testament on my skin
that aches with love
Please,
I want to see the bright sheen
of my blood on your hands
and your lips,and on your cheekbones
so beautiful, in hot blush
Touch me, my love,
thrust me into the fire
and the flame of the forge
and immolate this seethe and softness
extinguish mercilessly into ash
as I try to breathe
hurt me, my love
do what you will
for that I can endure
more then this
who were you,
with your tempered fire
a blacksmith in the foundry
you held what should have been
nigh untouchable
a precious metal
that yielded so reluctantly
I was a mere molten glow
in the sacred trays
amongst the gorgeous embers
purified in fire, but
your hands were idle
your bellows laid aside
and you simply looked away
What of these witless on the wind
tears that streamed from my eyes
like a fallen bottle of virgin oil
and tell me what has become
of my wise wolf woman eye
and my sensible spirit
of the raven?
I fell back into the rain of obsidian rocks
as they flew from the clouds
into eyes so full of dust and ghosts
that I might not ever know
the shaken to the core, oak tree
huddled under the howls of thunder
curled arms around knees
when the sky is no longer a shelter
we all appear like dream sequences
of angels in the exquisite
purple crackles of flash bulb lightning
before we fade forever
into the gravid heavens
and love, my raven
flew into the storm
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