My Sweet Lorde

As the end of a semester approaches it brings with it urgent demands of my time and attention. And, as is in my nature, I am meeting this full of resistance and rebellion. Don't fret, I'm still getting shit done, but I am redefining how I am going to do this whole nursing school thing. I am finding little ways to do things my way; little beautiful rebellions to keep me crazy.

One of my most worthy distractions has been discovering and delving into the work of Audre Lorde. I am currently reading a book of poetry by her called Black Unicorn. I keep having the urge to rub my face on its pages. That's the only way I can describe how I feel about her poems, I want to rub my face in them.

Here are two of my many new favorites.

Chorus

Sun

make me whole again

to love

the shattered truths of me

spilling out like dragon's teeth

through the hot lies

of those who say they love

me

when I am done

each shard will spring up

complete and armed

like a warrior woman

hot to be dealt with

slipping through alleyways

of musical night people humming

Mozart

was a white dude.

Fog Report

In this misty place where hunger finds us

seeking direction

I am too close to you to be useful.

When I speak the smell of love on my breath

distracts you

and it is easier for me

to move

against myself in you

than to solve my own equations.

I am often misled

by your familiar comforts

the shape of your teeth is written

into my palm like a second lifeline

when I am fingerprinted

the taste of your thighs

shows up

outlined in the ink.

They found me wandering at the edge

of a cliff

beside the nightmares of your body

"Give us your name and place of birth

and we will show you the way home."

I am tempted

to take you apart

and reconstruct your orifices

your tongue your truths your fleshy altars

into my own forgotten image

so when this fog lifts

I could be sure to find you

tethered like a goat

in my heart's yard.