Allowed to be Mysteries
People are allowed to be mysteries. Allowed to be mysteries:
kelp forests, clear salt-green cellulose and luminous,
women with their arms around dogs,
women with eyes containing multitudes.
Women with eyes containing:
languorous jimson weed, hemlock-foxglove-hyacinth
oleander larkspur, (deliriants, deliriously free,)
daphne and nightshade
irregular heartbeat scavengers.
People are allowed to be
I read somewhere that datura is a beautiful woman,
that the stinging, hot ice of her irises-
well, her eyes are the color of irises,
and she knows her way around the sort of
that settles in my rib like a bone knife.
And I have been crippled by love of this craggy
pharaoh for several histories now:
consult the Luxor papyrus.
I store the shake of young hope in my pelvis
and wavering thighs,
having thought once that I knew a lot,
when all that I don't know is a palmy and
loving expanse of good ground.
These days of gentle fractals
are allowed to be mysteries.
I drum them out on my collarbone
like a line of lapis beads.
Lying upside-down, the days look
just like elementals. The nights
look just like crane flies