
ANATOMY
i.
Open up your hands:
will I see lines on your palms
like cracks in dry earth,
or the imprint of curved talons?
The remembrance of high perches
and small, warm-blooded animals?
ii.
Open up your throat:
you are subtle, my love,
my lutescent warbler,
but your song I might know
even in this cacophony -
this chorus of wild, joyous
passerines.
iii.
Open up your belly:
will I see round, smooth seeds
or whip-like brittle-stars?
A puff of air and feathers
or just a hint of meadowgrass?
I think you do not know.
I think we will discover together
what it is that nourishes you.
iv.
Open up your chest:
will I find words buried
behind your ribs
like a midden,
like a riverbank?
Will I find words like stones,
like gleaming shells
in heavy earth?