Poem to Kali 3/14/13
You call to him with your tenderest voice and watch with predators eyes my feeble jealousy, knowing his other woman is a goddess whose dance swallows the whole earth in Her pulsing passion.
You formed me this way, your daughter, your darling, with snarled curls and a heart that burns to embers any man or child I touch, i’m only hoping I’ll remember You in some haunted lullaby buried deep within our flesh.
Even this is too soon engulfed by microbes and maggots, Your willing servants, in this rounded scale of time. We will be formed and crushed again at Your dancing whim.
Reflected in this grey-hued clime I see so many of Your vivid colors and curse the alchemy of sight. 1/64th of the whole is even too much sometimes.
Fine! Call him with clay words. Let him sculpt them with his sharpest mind. While I, with my migraine heart sense acutely his longing for you alone.
I feel useless. With hands too small for sculpting, an ego garish and pompous as a hot air balloon, my fear of earth a fear of You, thinly veiled in a false and fevered passion for distance.
It may be raining now, as this face and fettered flesh are coated in drops of saltless tears from a sky dark as Your body- not nearly as vast or as bright.
I call and call, Your answer thick with coded silence and I dream I am a man who can please You again with my difference- hallowed by lightning and Your will.