horror vacui
from The Book of She
she is uncoiled. white
as palimpsest.
hugged
by the dead, those lianas
testing
her
blood: a transfusion.
she wears their skins as capes.
in
the light she would be blinded
so
closes her eyes.
[If found, please return to ________________.]
looking to the birds, what pulses & bulges
they swoop down
low
Scrape your
glaucous skin, they whisper.
lips smeared with plum
mulberry rouge
she is ash. rock. fissure.
sifted
flour.
ossified
bone.
ossuary where the birds collect & serve…
preparations.
they will nest in her
as birds do
(in asylum she is bathed)
on her hot head
they will spray her till she’s dead
take down the layers of the woman
dressed & wearing leeches
on her temples, her head.
cup their hands, dip her fingers
draw out the lead.
her nape, her beautiful nape
as swans linger & connect their heads.
six ounces of blood, her blood
what will this buy?
her head.
pharos.
the birds, they had bright bright eyes.
they filled the woods.
She, they tell her, breathily
you always have an extra place for strangers.
You are a house, a book, a text.
Please harbor us. Please
harbor the sailors, the men.
Please keep them in, all of the dead.
But I’m thinning, she says.
My house will not harbor anyone.
No matter, they say. You
see those rocks there? The
lizards, they wait for your crumbs.
We wait for what falls from the tree, what comes from your vent. We will wait for your
water in the wind.
she thinks she is safe.
the bleeding done.
in that boat
she rose & felt her skin.
they will insert the rods—electrify her
to keep her in heat
as ferrets do
there is no cure to what remains
there is no marrow in her bones.
warning.
looking at you in the field with the dark stars
& behind the fence
you are transformed, fused.
she is hungry & approaches you
she touches your skin
your bare skin,
shall I devour
you?
featherless purple showing a sculpture of pulsing veins
I know how to smell fear.
Have you turned a bird?
in her heat she wakes
& you, as bird,
molt & fly away…
They, her girls, 3
now turned to bird
light on her flesh
pulse red their chests
touch her deep throat
the birds, they had bright bright eyes.
like fire.
ruin.
she was officially abandoned.
she could not fly. she
could not do tricks.
(She had been salted.)
they were bored. they
forgot her.
she was buried in pitch, though vineyards were said to grow above
her.
in excavation, she harbors 3 women. they are held in marble.
like wine, bone dry & sweet.
curio.
1.
3 birds in a box
by fireside
they
flew out of their separate compartments
came
to me
i didn’t know what to do w/ them
so i ate them—uncooked, w/ feathers
2.
she ate in the chorus
took
to her bed
she
was the ship
drifting
taking
them on
in
her passage
3.
they seem strange feel strange
till
she lets go & they
are no longer
stones
risen from her breath, made in volcano.
