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∴

i held

i held the sweetest smells
like bouquets in my blood

in the dim and sacred corners
where one keeps
the things we must not forget
but must not also touch.

i stayed

i stayed like a pearl
and cloistered me in muscle
to be hidden.
to be sure.
that the sand i had been made of
did not make castles with the crowd
and wash away –
away.

i meant

i meant to have been used
in charity
not minding
constant scarcity
and giving
all the worth of me
to holy, hurting feet.

but now i sit
in alabaster bits
and wonder if my housed
was any salve at all.

i wonder,

upon whose senses
i have spilled
and whose purpose
have i filled
and where is value
for the reaping
when all my wealth
has took to seeping?

o, clamor

i clamor to contain
this precious, ruptured vein
and hold –

please can i hold it all –

again.

∴

 

 

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