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Ritual Ritual
by Abigail George
2010-10-16 08:28:10
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Michael’s ghost comes to me with the weight of water – I drink
In the lines of his face, blur the edges; bottle them up in memory for a
Keepsake of a perfect solidarity, stitch the laughter, the inner battle studies,
The bittersweet imprint of two bodies, star-crossed lovers, self-portraits that
Flower at the commitment of first time lover’s closeted togetherness

He has given me something; new eyes; shameless jewels, diamonds,
He scrounged about on the ground for his own in the rough;
Waited patiently until their gestation period came to an end,
He takes my own hand in his, I watch him like a spectator; his
Body is made of glass so I touch him tenderly as if he might break

You are the painted groom in the forest of the moonlight – you
Cover the mouths of dunes with your skin; there are no fences
Where you come from, there are no children here; there are
Golden rings on our fingers, wedding bands to mark the state of
Our unions to mend this focus purely – I needed you for awhile

This path, this door left ajar to remind myself of my swallowed up,
Rehearsed fear of being alone, a flock gave me hope, this furnace
Gave me the fear of being placed by an anchor, oh, joy, what is
This gift – I am choking on white, I let the angled beast in too soon
Black dogs as black as a river bark madly at the presence of wounded

Ghosts but they don’t keep me awake for long – I thought I wouldn’t
Know what do to with these stages of infancy that I have given birth to;
Baited with trailing, unnamed hooks; I pick at his birthmark, scratch it
With a nail as if it’s a tattoo, the plum of a bruise; I hit a wall, there are
Woods here – unburdened, finally loosed the weight I’ve carried

His clean, pale, bitten fingers are as remote from me as the light on sea glass
Or a wet, streaming tadpole; we are done with the night, I try not to dream
I can smell the scent of your ruffled, yellow hair like feathers on your pillow
I am in the minority now, I surfaced like winter, as wet as snow, as heavy
As the storm on the other side of the world, as weather; as if you didn’t know
My heart says love is intense; the heavenly shine of lust on the mind is brief

I watch you sleep – if I could slay your dragons, I would, I have numbers
For company, silence, a golden roost of mounting words sinking without
Feeling too much self-conscious, they burn, harvested on the bare, mute page
Those islands in neutral territory, if lust was not temporary then where
Would we all be; physically, humanity without alchemy – anonymous; I’ve arrived.


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