Ecclesia

  
I am from the slow unravel
of slip knots,
and streams of water
springing from rocks.

A helium balloon unquiet,
I gage the alignment of the spheres
as I rise, rise.

Held down by ginseng and jasmine,
I approach the limit line
until zero becomes
an untouchable axis;
memory, a hollow light.

I am from emerald streaked white
horror, my once linen ascete
sunk down deep
in garnet wine.

And I will never measure up
to your golden ruler,
idyllic image of a Mary, Madonna
pearl of blessed virtue,
to have and to hold - at arm's distance,
because you want my light
without my dark.

I'll unfold my pain
in silver triangles;
throbbing, metallic.

As a rock absorbs water,
a cut, six skin layers deep,
takes ten seconds to bleed.

I'll bite my tongue and note
the bitter copper taste.


--Alicia (2012)