It happened again the dead sea full of dried emotions and the charm to write about withering winters happened again, from my arms to my toe nails with colors and with a paint- brush the knuckles are red due to migraine, the bosoms are sagging due to age. The concept of time throws my memory into a massive ocean of sins/ fears/ aches. And I think of myself as a soft folktale, lost somewhere, occurring due to occult or a greasy lovemaking. I count the days back and front to defy the mouth in exasperation to write about the shivering body. Madness is what keeps my soul intact, I can talk to my mind for longer hours often with dead bumblebees right beside me, here- with leaves falling upon my chest my mahogany textured hair clinging to a sad tree. (Devika) If this is bliss, please don’t leave; silhouettes played by sculptural midnights is a song and dance of memory; the opus rises like god's rainwater of tragedy and embrace— it entrances my bones kneed into pride like a strange dream; a legacy of my footing in the stone, I saw it today in the past to defy the orgasmic cult, prime and prime shadows in the back of my mind, as messianic blood drops from my feet it had crushed the late moon on its garden bed, almost thieving the sleeping bear mentioned for its own season; the eucalyptus wilts in my asylumned winter, the violence within my dreams and the uncoiled warmth of the thorn into my side, claws into my first breath. (Lucy) © 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved and My Valiant Soul.
It was an honor collaborating with Devika of My Valiant Soul on this piece; it brought back some spirit in my writing after taking a poetry hiatus. As well, please be sure to check out her site and see more of her amazing and wondrous work. Thank you for reading our collaborative piece.