(no subject)

[vicioushannah]

listen closely,
among all these men
who want to worship me
for my toes and tattoos,
there may be someone
who can see our soul
and the remnants of it that
rise from these ripe words.

(and it's for them i look
in between the smallest print
on the pages peeled from news-leaf)

i'll scrawl acronyms in corners,
chopping words to fit spaces
that they may call to you
with brevity,

we were meant to be.

Not meant to stand and
wait or sway to
and fall fro
and rise, and ebb
and dash and flow,
but be - yes, we were meant.

(the cadence of these words,
let each echo in the chambers your ribs create

we

were

meant

to

be

take that, you porcelain barn-child,
your mother stole her face
from the goddess of grain!
take that, old buildings that burn
easy, smell of old men and old scrolls.
take that, Ahuramazda,
Odin, bring it to your people, and
take it for me.)

Save us from,
in last moments, turning to
swallow and say,
i didn't mean it
and so,
i did not mean at all.