i. bring back her corpse to the chambers of my heart

bring back her corpse to the chambers of my heart
dig it out from the golden clay soil
i once heard we got life through God’s breath
so, breathe, Lord! my earnest plea!
breathe Lord into her nostrils!
bring her corpse to lay beside me
while I wait for her resurrection
broken bottles. fingers pricked. blood like a river.
bring her. bring her. bring her.
Divide 24 hours with a knife but i won’t complain
i’ll manage the 1 minute i get to spend with her
but first, bring her corpse to the chambers of my heart
where the fire that keeps my soul up at night
will warm her body and the insects that crawl will turn to ash
bring back her corpse to the chambers of my heart!
where I’ll write songs for her every morning.
do – re – mi – fa – so – la – ti – do – it’s the best I can do.
my voice hoarse from the waterfall of tears
will warm up to sing her the songs
that my fingers, frail and sad –
write in her honor and memory
under the moon-lit sky.
bring back her corpse to the chambers of my heart
so, I can awaken the dead.
a piercing scream and strangled crying – that is the sound of my soul groaning:
bring back her corpse to the chambers of my heart.

 

ii. love is the language the birds in my village don’t hear

to love is to suffer – a bird once told me this
you cut yourself open for people
bleed. bleed. bleed.
your blood is the water they will drink
when their streams have all gone dry.
they will take from you
the very thing that represents your life – your blood
and this they will take without even looking back
love is the language the birds in my village don’t hear
because humans are dismal.
selfish. wicked. you help & they forget.
with the very same hands they ate your food with
they will stab with a knife. not caring.
some wear their humanity like a mask
rage. riot. pride hurt & mask removed.
love is the language the birds in my village don’t hear
for to love is to suffer. to deeply suffer.
yet, i am called to love.
for my bible tells me so.
overlook their flaws too – for love covers a multitude of sin.
love is kind & patient & forgiving & long-suffering
and this word ‘suffer’ is the word the birds in my village hate
yet it is associated with love.
so, you see why love is the language the birds in my village don’t hear.
but we are humans. not the birds in my village.
nonetheless, I’m afraid that love –
love is the language some human beings on earth don’t hear either.

 

 

 

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