Welcome back to the land of the living
Look at how your hand begins to pulse pinkly now; do you remember?
There were veins and they carried moments into your heart. You had eyes and they used to open- see?
You climbed over the fence from the endless fields of once-grass:
Dry and wind-splintered now.
And the sky without stars held you down like a clean glass window.
You are a beetle, needle-pierced and pressed in velvet
You straddled the worlds and moon and sun both disavowed you.
Do you remember their stony faces as you floated through the gate?
We will take you back, because you left a small tea candle burning
On the sill of your brow.
You bent your will on the wind like a sail and when the storm came, you surrendered
We will take you back now into the hearth of life.
It is beating, do you remember?
You left us once, but only like a cow that gives its hide to a drum, and something small and musical still whispered up from the empty space once graced by the letters of your name.
silently, you pressed small seeds into the ground, and the burial mounds all stared up at you in wonder,
as little gray-blue petals pushed out of the pores of the earth; her ashen face now flowering sullenly.
We looked at you then and saw two wheels spinning in opposite directions.
We beckoned you back and you dully slid over the land toward the band that bundles earth to ever-after.
your leg became entagled on the metal brambles of barb, as you blindly made the passage over cold-dead-ancient stones.
You scraped your knees on scorched shadows and the skeletons of stories.
You slid away then,
And the people said it was over:
What was you
had gone home
Like salt from stones,
And the sun licked the blood from your bones,
And your lips slipped away with your moans
In blue shadows.
Your Split pelvis sank in the shallows. Life loosely lay across it, undecided.
Your teeth broke like ice on the empty nest of your breath.
Your eyes opened like pales of oceanic milk:: blinking at a vast new field of stars.
They spoke out, and in an ancient dance, they said to the lost council of everyone:
You are going to hurt
When you’re walking this earth
Crawling lost through this dirt
you will crawl bent-armed and backwards, scratching Lillith’s rhythms into the skull of the new world
You will carry the black moon in the hull of your pelvis and your womb will breathe your tears and all your stories out onto the earth.
Even your blackest seeds will carry life within their bellies.
We will take you back.