The Water Carrier
“The twilight turns from amethyst
To deep and deeper blue..”
(James Joyce – Chamber Music – II)
Upon my palm, sacred invisibility
Touched, brought forward by the sound of her
Mouth my words – my processions of fate.
Upon her tongue taste the heavy due of mourning
Made light, spray layered in the dawning
Of my song sung finally for another tear.
Upon her chest a treasure of rhyme
And music and heaving breath,
Spread lips of wet, taking every bit of me in –
Torrential pain, salt pools and body burdened
Breaks with love to receive me alone.
For you alone have been every woman,
Every woman I will ever know