Reanimated Lavender Granola Switchblade Nun rides again.

Monday, June 25, 2012

Summer Came

Summer came, and I
Hardly cared.
I rode my dapple gray across the market lot
Past a woman in a sundress,
Loading an SUV with more shit than the Vikings ever carried off from flaming England.

She put her hand to her mouth when she saw me.
She stood between me and her child,
Between calm sanity and a wandering, moaning spirit.

I am not much to look at.
Dried blood on my cheek serves as blush.
My scent is natural.
I have come across deserts and fever-borders.

There is a cafe near where I am--
I remember it.
A girl must declare herself butch or femme, and I am neither.
I am the crimson rose, fresh from the rain.
I am the bone hammer,
And also the drum.

I have been shattered, wounded,
Laughed at,
Set on fire.

I burn still.

Is there an opium for this kind of ache?
Is there a stall for my horse?
A bed for me?
Could there ever be sandalwood, patchouli,
All the cheap, perfect aromas of dollar-store serenity?

Could there be
Your arms, bare, except for your silver serpent cuffs?
Your breasts, that my cheek has dreamed of?
Could your thigh between mine
Split me softly, like a river deep and sweet?

Summer came,
And so I traveled across the dust and ruin
Back here,
To you.
I lied before, when I said I hardly cared--

I care for these:
Your face.
Your heart beat.
I care, and I hope that all that I have done and not done,
All the places that I have been or left behind me,
Have made me good enough
To say it.
________

for Monday Melting #21


picture: Rhona Mitre



 

23 comments:

  1. Now who on earth is Summer? In my mind, she is "another woman," the one who meant nothing to you. The woman to whom you are speaking is your everything, and Summer was nothing. But you're probably just referring to a season. :)

    Love these:

    "Between calm sanity and a wandering, moaning spirit"

    "Dried blood on my cheek serves as blush."

    "I have come across deserts and fever-borders." Nice. :)

    "I am the bone hammer,
    And also the drum." ... Sheesh. This is deep and good and true.

    "I have been shattered, wounded,
    Laughed at,
    Set on fire.
    I burn still.
    Is there an opium for this kind of ache?"

    "except for your silver serpent cuffs"

    "Split me softly, like a river deep and sweet"

    What a delicious sliver of longing and deep, passionate love you have shared. Thank you so much for writing. I was excited to see your link.

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  2. Is that Selene from Underworld? Kudos on your excellent taste! :-)

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  3. you had me laughing at the lady loading her SUV with more shit than the vikings... :)

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  5. I'm glad that you have found that calm in yourself and are able to 'say it'. Without a sort of acceptance, I'm not sure if you would be able to say any of it. The heart that holds yours would be foolish to allow passion, 'fresh from the rain', to stray.

    I hope you only hold on to what allows you to shine.

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  6. Yes, this:

    "Could your thigh between mine
    Split me softly, like a river deep and sweet?"

    So super sexy!!

    Great writing in its entirety, Shay, I was thinking along similar lines as what Shawna stated, too!

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  7. There is definitely the sense of a journey in this, and not an easy one. The scents and the landscapes of many memories coalesce in a panorama of all the heart's wares, or wears...lovely, haunting, mystical, sensual, and just a damn good poem.

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  8. What strong poetry you write. I loved this line >> "Could your thigh between mine Split me softly, like a river deep and sweet?" Just stellar.

    And the movie that picture is from is great.

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  9. A sensuality, a passion, a smoldering, a vulnerability---all wrapped up into one of your everyday, routine, nothing-to-it, aw-shucks (Ihateyou) poems. ;)

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  10. signature stuff again.loved it to bits.especially like 'dollar-store serenity'.

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  11. romantic, sensual, beautiful juxtaposed as only you can do with harshness and pain. amazing!!!

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  12. I just loved how you have brought your Joan of Arc-like protagonist out of the pages of history and have her riding through the parking lots of this ol' town... Times change but warrior women preside in all their uncompromising glory.

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  13. Fantabulous !! so much depth here !! a definite WOW!

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  14. it seems to have all been said and much better than I could ... back from my get-away and struggling to catch up .. hey!!!

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  15. "She put her hand to her mouth when she saw me.
    She stood between me and her child,
    Between calm sanity and a wandering, moaning spirit."

    You tricked me here, I think, so at first I didn't see that the rider was the "wandering moaning spirit" who must define or burn. And despite vacating, the moan is hard: "Is there an opium for this kind of ache? / Is there a stall for my horse? / A bed for me?" AND then the possibility of redemption!!! So the rider is also "calm sanity" having passed the borderline of the defined.

    How Amazingly structured to make a reader feel! What a story! Too common an experience. I want the world to read this.

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  16. Oh Susan, I love your comment. I didn't read it that way at all. I thought the mother was torn between protecting her calm, serene life and letting her moaning spirit carry her off with this potentially dangerous and passionate woman.

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  17. Incredibly tender and beautiful. No one writes (or feels) love like you do. I especially caught my breath at the crimson rose, bone hammer and also the drum. Wow. And the cheap, perfect aromas of dollar store serenity - which I know well, hee hee.

    You are a brilliant writer, kiddo.

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  18. Aching and beautiful, my friend. Great images that flowed so easily. Thanks.

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  19. beautiful shay - not seen in an age - glad I found you again - Lib

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  20. This was so beautiful, sensual, and just fabulous! No one does it like you, Shay!

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Spirit, what do you wish to tell us?