The Scattering, Alysha L. Scott [ebook reader .txt] 📗

Nobody shelters the damned
for fear of damnation--
Then, if not for fear, has Love
hidden her frail body; other
than in the caves of our hollowed
hearts?


Fields

There.

It curls itself
around like dry milk.
Aeolus breathes
the desert unto
Pastoral gold; a
swollen nipple

No tears for lush
stalks of women,
even as they dance
under sterile
suns.


Theda

You are
blood in Eve's burrow, where
shells of Venus could not
bite through,
could not dry
the paps of pretty words
of pretty babies, or pretty girls.

This is rising.
The Delphic eyes, the
black, black crow biting
my lips. To spread, to envelope

these legs; my Winter,
lurking in his white cape
not ever knowing, admitting
he swallows rain
as my tongue curls.

And in time, a
mouth will be hollowed
for swollen lilies;

dead fathers-- who
like ordinary men,
beat their wives and kiss
their daughters as if

nothing
has passed the murmurs, the cherry bombs,
a whimper, emptiness.

Not even my cold, black
stare:
Mother, willing, will I die
parched or sharp
with this needle nonsense of
words, words, words?

Pining for another sip

her fingers lace with them,
red-rose nipples, no
Father, no, no

not even the shrewd cloak
of my black,
black hair.


Welcome, Ghosts

Little orb; illusion
sprouting from my tongue
Here am I, golden and swollen
from a hundred good fucks.

You bend, ethereal, from body
to sky. Omnipotent yellow with teeth
and honey in my thighs, there
little seed glowing

Silent wraith of nudity, he could
summon me from Hell, but I
know weight as Heaven knows
absence:

Or if you wish to be near me, and
my life and my memory
my mouth will open very beautifully, suddenly


as if you had never
reached the sun: and I,


will linger there with lucid phantoms
delicately, everywhere and forever descending.


Hands, Pulled

Knots in my hands,
pulled threads.
Coiled naked, I shed
my skin
flow through me,
bullets of the sun,

silk taut, nectar
she knows me.

metal
Swimming in my veins,
Flow through me.


Hel's Lament II

The heartbeat does mock
when like a drum, it quakes
and echoes the eternal applause:

A foolish reminder of what
Devils will become you
when you recover
from the constant
thump, thump,
breath after breath.
Yes, my cruel heart,
I will in death recover
you.

Only then will the bellowing, burst
of my laughter
become the only beat you
know


bravo.

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Publication Date: 01-19-2010

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