I (The Forgotten Temple)
[currently lost]
II (Trains in Tunnels)
I wash the feet
of those who come after me.
my hands on your waist
shrivel, dry and satisfied,
feel the warm softness of flesh
through silk and sackcloth
bless the silent bird,
the midwife
for she who does not bear.
lips on flesh
a silent ear of corn
it is only in that way
and never can I touch you
but Lilith, I will worship you.
III (Foghorn)
violet notes with silver tinge
play out across the pond.
the loam, the moss
make us a comfortable bed.
I whisper you, again,
beside the water:
lioness, child,
watcher of the skies
the water ripples
in the rain.
shame and boldness,
the curve of one breast
tan and full, touched
with whispers and chants,
crossed with oil and sage.
Lilith, I will worship you.
IV (The Magic Flute)
The image of your body
floats, as if in waves,
far above me
your touch has burned
your secret handshake
on my arm
for all to see.
I treasure it,
keep it like a scar
earned in battle.
Your will subsumes me,
the black sun of your eyes
and radiance of your hair
touch my blood with fervor.
Do not hate my obedience
and do not love my self control,
bring me to the fountain of godhead
and let me drink long draughts of you
for Lilith, I worship you.
V (Silent)
the picture shows
disciples, who whirl
in odd silence.
I can see you
in the frozen motion,
a glimpse of silver-lined eye
in the flashing sword
of a dervish,
hair in the black pool,
roundness of cheek
in two bodies joined
at the center.
another desire
might not have been so great
without the words
<<I am in love>>,
but I am the first and last,
the honored and the scorned,
the whore and the holy one,
I wrapped your words
around my body,
a girdle of gauze
and the mountain
of your lips,
and watched you ascend,
leaving only the fountain of godhead,
the bird who is midwife,
the lion by the pool
forever awaiting your touch:
like them, Lilith, I worship you.
VI (Industrial Bell Tree)
I wander through this maze,
this hanging garden of tone and lustre,
know your voice
waits at the end,
your touch on my arm,
your lips on my breast:
you who know me,
be ignorant of me,
and those who have
not known me,
let them know me.
I call to you,
the new flesh
and the familiar flesh:
I part the curtain of bells
to see you, naked in the mirror,
your disciples sent away
and the animals asleep,
breast crossed with oil
and eyes flushed with silver.
I push against the glass,
a light touch, test the give
the solidity at once reassures and defeats
your hand as if smoke emerges
and passes through me,
your nudity into me and over me
and Lilith, we shall pray together