lilth

born of the same dark dirt
the work of a lonely god, bodies made for each other,
trapped in a garden

one chose the soil, a decomposition,
to be reborn poorer each time.

desperately hungry
you chose the freedom of storms and
sanctuary in the blindness of night.
an appetite for the blood of life
and the song of demons
thriving on the fear of men.
revelling in the truth of lust.

as a son of adam you haunt my bed
a lithe container for sin
and rootless dreams


painting by Jel Ena

small

jagged whiskey blooms,
blood drips, a heart opening and closing,
dialation and contraction of spaces possible.

hands carry a ghost
to fill shuttered lungs
a few leaves spilled in sacrifice.
twin contrails in a January's long dark
free to fall between the trees breath
a slowness, their nakedness belies.

the ceiling of near dawn gives way
a sky failing to the yellowed incandesence
and I am small inside these corners again

dusk

fingers dipped in ink
the path a root takes
searching through hollows
filling me again,
words lost in the art of skin.
an open hand, an unknown path,
a chaos of branches
more directions
to loose
there is only following now.

I bathe in the quiet of another empty sunset
lost in your shade

adrift

I press my ear to the cage
the song bird of your heart
reminding me that I still live,
your breath a tender breeze
that catches me in its sway.
the whisper of your fingers
entwine in my hair
stranded in your embrace,
a beautiful oblivion

somewhere

with my back to the earth
an ocean of wind blows
the stars through the trees.
whispering to the night
the light is as thin as the answers,
I wish I was naked of desire

psalm

when your body is bent in prayer
and your hands tremble with righteousness
I can fill the belly of your need,
but can you contain me?
do you have the arms to wrap me in
silence, can you break the fingers of memory
and give me the smallest
peace to blind me to my past?
do you know a trick to kill the dead?
I am be the bread and blood,
corporeal and unrelenting,
I will eat your loneliness
but what will you have
when I am gone