I tie knots in a blue cord
suck a black pebble
and frieze your name
in a firefly’s light.
There are graves
speckled with sea salt
and burnt sage.
I’ve exhausted fire
and banishment.
Shall I sing backward
three words, three times,
run my fingers down my neck,
forgetting yours?
Naked I smudge and pray
upon glowing beads,
the waning gibbous
on my brow,
Venus in my right eye—
A fragile heart beats
sound inside
new feather floats
down to roots.
Appeared Spring 2008 in the Cafe Review
