Nine of Cups Reversed
I’m learning to sit still,
a literal study
in stillness,
something my brain treats as venom—
the gifts extracted
resemble infants,
an abstract shiver dampens their heartbeat
a fire burns dirty in their chest,
the stench of jasmine and ash, disintegrates—
phosphenes and phosphorus
bleach teeth/
retinas twitch
to the tune of silence
eyes in my eyes
spill on my lap
a prayer of syllables caught in
the spine,
wings stuck, windless
as I plummet unaware
of the many arms and many mouths
ready to catch my fall
to simplify:
I am deep in my body,
my thoughts are thoughts are thoughts
Jesus isn’t near, but I am
I touch my tongue to salivate
I sit with myself to forget
the past that haunts,
the future that worries
I want the metric of now
a synth serenading my hands to quit pretending they know what they should be touching
unstrap
unwrap
bootstrap
mishap
I am all out of versions of what I swore was me
Notes of a Dirty Young Woman 