Under covers of cotton and skin,
A stirring undid a stitch that never
stopped tearing
Blood bettered into bones, bettered into fingers, bettered into nails
One heart taught another the notes to
the Original Verse
Suspended, warm, protected, my world in your breadth.
It gave you something to do,
my designing and making.
You are the Original God
From your feeding hands, did my fingers
find length
From your watchful face, did my eyes
find difference
On your laughing belly, did my line
find squiggle
In your eloquent speech, did my words
find sentence
In your close embrace, did my heart
find friend.
It gave you something to do,
my cradling and caring.
You are the Original Love
Your much moisturised hand would lay
upon my cheek
Counting my many fears, then
remembering the math
Finding my stray doubts, then housing
them
You stuffed me every night with a song
and a kiss
then had me for breakfast every morning
with a knife and a fork.
It gave you something to do,
my breaking and mending.
You are the Original Heartbreak
That imp in your mouth, never one to
suffer calms
That want in your arms, always looking
to hold storms
That wimp in your heart that gave up
too soon
And ran out with you and baggage -
half packed and
tearing through thread.
It gave you something to do,
your living and dying.
You are the Original Void
You are the Original Void
I have to scavenge you from my heaping past
All those multitudes of you, crumbling now,
hampering ants, encrusting my feet,
making it difficult
to walk.
Dedicated to my mother, the love of my life, the ache of my life
