Portrait of a girl peeling garlic.

“And like dissolves like?”

Smoke curled around her lips,

intrigued.

Slipskin, anemic, pale

little teeth

pointed just like a vampire.

Long fingers, elegant, morose,

soft-curled about the flaking bulb.

She rubbed. The peel shook, shuddered,

split away

gave sickly crunch.

sharp putrid smell spread through the room–

a djinn she had released.

and like will dissolve like,

sometimes.

Sallow rosette, the vampire teeth–

she also cracked, she, too, turned fog,

and endless, endless muttering.

 

 

Dusk hum

Go down, go down,

to country roads,

to country roads whose hazy dust

falls gently on the briar rose,

it coats the dewy petals so.

And sunlight rolls lopsidedly

through mudpaths after milky rain,

where butterflies slow blink their wings,

while slyly licking mud.

Here harvest may you heady dreams,

and fullness of your breaths.

After you leave, the hazel-copse

will turn its nuts hard bronze.

 

Lullaby

 

Please shut the window now, it’s night

you mustn’t let the boo-hags in.

(Its hinges sigh like willow boughs,

it shudderingly locks.)

The night was made to use our nose

just like the day is for the eyes;

jasmine and peatmoss, nighttime dew,

and cold sharp smell of stars.

Oh child, you’re small

and still so bright

and pink–

the night can’t cloak you yet.

Breathe deep sweet dreams for now

and grow;

then nighttime will be yours.

Dry forest

The worm-flames in my cigarette

were writhing with great vigor.

A howling wind, a feeding wind

ran rapid through the trees.

No stars today.

No sun before– just clouds.

A deathly pallor.

The ancient trees, the beechwood groves

were where the remnants lay.

My heart beat hot within my chest

but this, as well, was secret.