Literature
Remembering
Remembering
My brother said he slept with me (unholy congress),
a bramble brier of limbs, cocks and mouths.
They never said, oh so poor sleeping beauty’s wall
was pocked with uncoupled blasphemous poppies.
But I was a strumpet, the number of how many I slept with
could be be found if you tore through a cereal box.
His first wife sang Hail Marys when hearing of my lovers,
labyrinthine mazes of prayers. When my husband danced with me.
the Pavan, Lord Zouch’s Maske. We all wore delicious masks,
fingers touching then other things touched, fevered, liquid.
But that was a long, long time, things are clove breaths,
they are endlessl