Poems

Dream

May you be a green body, O poem
May you be an utterance/ a language
In which I stray with
my wings and self
A breathe on my tongue
So that I graze
the tribes of my voice - silent as they are
 
Alone,
insomniac, I see
That you will not be a green body, you were not
a kind master to be bought
not a goddess
O my desired delirium, my memory!