This is a season of death but my heart
won’t darken. Oh, Lord let me turn
black and damp with blood. Give me
a handful of nights coiled on the floor
hammered numb with sadness.
Don’t let my heart turn hard and green
like an unripe tomato where the worms
have already begun to bore.
I want the desert and the water.
I need the cave and me eyes
burning with sunlight.
I need my body turned inside out
and the spirit to weep out in the night.
I want to walk back in among my people
with the light orbiting around me
and the power of death turned back on itself.
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