| © Beth Roberts |
AFTERBIRTH
Second born, of
premature heft and a hundred red,
in the air and on the bed, maps where
God slid.
LEGS
Air where they
were
flexing doubled, God-red.
KEYS
Extensions of the digits,
especially
index,
pinkie clink.
MIND
A day so white,
what did it matter
I wanted a little red.
WAR
Too red meant we were losing and losing
it.
MEMORY
Lost too, we were meaning and
meant it.
BABY
I knew you when you were
alone
in your father's mind, and,
milli-faceted gem,
demolition,
a child's desk, red.
OBJECT
Saddled and bridled Asian horse, two
inches
high, jade and gold, nostrils flared red.
MELODY
Fabricate with a bright thread running through
it.
LIST
A small thing to save me, written
in my body, and read there.
|