The shadow of wild woman lurks,
singing over the bones
climbing to the tops of trees
where she learned
what orgasm would one day feel like –
a wild seed that arrives on the wind
beneath a jesus-god sunset
as with lighted lanterns, the fishermen
come up from the lake at dusk
He thinks he sees her behind the oleander
in robes vying with their white,
and around her neck, a key spins
rotating on a tiger's eye ring
inviting him to seduce her
with the faint sex of salt and angophora trees
The giving of the body
is the ultimate phase of love -
inviting him to drink wounded wine
from earthen cups and succumb to false promises
in the yes of slim dark strangers
Frantic for the return of the light
she rejoices at summer’s genesis -
and another kind of fire was kindled in me —
with this elegy that heralds
a most astounding love upon the horizon
We burn evergreens and sage,
as did the ancient Celts and Gaels
to banish bitterness
(and there has been so much bitterness)
mine are the footsteps you hear in the night
echoing like creation’s daughter,
gleaming sapphires where eyes should be
and adorned in theatre colours
I shall write and fetch
to water beneath the old bridge
where the stream tumbles furiously
with the ancient erotic rhythm
of the ocean, embracing her like a lover,
tumbling into a gorgeous orgy of spume
black as a raven’s wing, the voices of fire
rising higher
than the cloud point of molten silver
It is so hard when your own
soul is hurting and it will not
listen to you
but you cannot cut out the soul
because it is family
Those are the feelings here…
Running with Tigers
©crisstiena
Honorable mention
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