Exulted Flay
Here the sound of water being circled in machine, washing clean, our plates scraped raw in delight
Here the rustle
of forms, out of focus, lying together with fright
How in
intimacies stitch they need speak no words to convey
A joy as deep
in lasting satiate turning on exulted flay
Here our
mortal coil resolves its eternal ache to meet
A place of
sanctuary for those who wander, must also find their sleep
It’s only
pain daughter
Okay let’s
bring in the shame, have a good look, make it your friend, blaze and fall loose
on dancing hooks
We can’t bear
the suffering so watch the flames die down, to slender remembrances all in a
row, we are golden and then we are dull
Relinquished habits
Deep below the earth
I might have found you
Climbing from stalagmites
Brushed in clay
There’s a cost for
Relinquished habits
Bowing in bad weather
Will
In the storm
they said goodbye
as car alarms
faltered, testily bleating resentment for torrent
she said; I cannot control anything
her palms up in supplication
as willow
trees, burdened with rain, lowered
growing more sorrowful
white leaves
bleached by last week’s sun
run like
blind mice down street edges heading for
oblivion
it wasn’t far
from how they felt
saying goodbye
in storm
windows
obscured
wipers
furiously battling
elements
beyond
anyone’s will
Entirety 1
How many
turns of moon, shifts of sea, change of seasons, will pass in glassy dance,
before my empty arms, and untouched skin, shall feel again your weight, your
breath, your familiar smell and warmth, coming into me like returning electricity
shaken loose and firing, starburst over naked souls
How long
before I forget to notice I am waiting, my arms wilted in devout, my breasts
hollow with doubt, there is only time, ticking down in unwilling reminder, you
are gone, you are not here, this body will grow old before it ceases waiting,
the longing remaining like poisoned quill stuck in jugular
Entirety 2
You own me in obsession, I am your slave, I do not exist but when you cast your net wide enough to absorb me into you, this place of belonging, so unwilling and natural, we tumble, we pinch and curl, like hungry spirits, biting life from each other in starving steam of longing, casting fire into water
If you never
come back, I will be like those burnt silhouettes of humans, fallen back
against stick, crushed into waiting stance, faceless, without motion, without
life, a straw effigy of a person who is no more, running after you in her young
lean chase, she knows if she does not catch, her entirety will erase
Safety
Never had a
Minister
Never had a
Baptism
Never took an
Oath
Never walked
the Stage
Though I
graduated
I kept promises
Bon coeur ne peut mentir
Sometimes we don’t
rinse clean through
conventional means
We who are
unbaptized, undocumented
We who skirt
parameters, still paying attention
Hold out
unconventional hands
without
Bible, without Watchtower, without Torah
in swag of
secret climb, unable to reveal how
we get high
enough to save from drowning
Phantasma
But moon
You remind me
Ghosts are
not alive
And pain
Will fade in
time
You are whole
Then a sliver
Vanishing
almost
Blind in
darkness
To return
Bright And
full
Perhaps
Moon
I will
Eventually
Be like
You
~~~
Candice Louisa Daquin is a Psychotherapist. She also edits and writes. Daquin was editor of SMITTEN: This Is What Love Looks Like, an anthology of queer female poetry. Inclusiveness and kindness are her mantras. www.thefeatheredsleep.com You can find much of the work she has been involved with or written herself HERE. Also, her poetry has been reblogged on I Write Her many times HERE. I’m a fan! ❤ This is her first debut on The Short of It.
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