Hold the bowl of your hips
mouthward, toward the moon
Howl out tenderness (Death is just a room)
Scrape stars from your lips
Sunrise: coming soon.
Dew drops drape your hips
Pull off your cocoon
pray UP your wolf kiss
To the fading night:
Perfect tender lips
Take up luscious light
Sky skims off the black:
Throws off starry shawl
Nothing that you lack,
now you’re standing tall.
Stand up naked now:
Shake this house down right
rippling party-pray
At the fading night
Walk your own footsteps
String your own high-moon
Hold the dome of sky
read the sacred runes.
Thread the needle with this: liquid-love-desire.
Climb your homespun rope,
Let it take you higher.
Crawl back into this:
Wet earth,
mother dune:
whispering fierce and whole,
brown and bathed in moon.
Take your little home: breasts and teeth and bones
Bent armed praying tome
Slide slow back into
Womb-dune torn with tombs
Look death in her eyes;
darkness always looms
Find yourself within:
Holy
Body room
house of skin and hips
Tender temple boom
Soul that tears and rips;
Heart that calls and Blooms.