ASCENT

How many men have touched me? 

Whistled into me like daylight

through a wave?  Once I wanted to be

an extinct herb, anemone plucked

from the back of a wild boar.

To smell of spruce, the breast of a mourning

dove.  To be clothed in sea foam.

I was another shape, my birthmark a holy

island.  I tasted of salt.  I couldn’t see

above or below me.  Only skin. 

In one engraving, I am stepping up

from the pool, glacial and translucent

in the dark.  He brushes away

my hair, leans down to lick my collarbone

and I'm gone.  But I don't know where.

I can't get back into the world.

I HAVE TO TELL THE BEES

Little shamans, I don't know

what's died.  Only that what's missing

clings to me like pollen.

Lift my loss and I'll give you my faith.

Take my body, make it clean

and bright as a honeycomb

I can see inside.