Day 43 of #the100dayproject - Old Flames

Old Flames

I am wheat leaning with the wind, the untouched earth, waiting to be opened like a zipper.

Root and burrow, the tunnels and network maps of creatures inside of me.

My scent like the big sky, tastes a cold glass of water;

I am all of these things. I never had old flames

that fanned out to torch the prairies of my body, scar me burnt or sad.

I want only one man to wonder my vast spaces and move through

my endless fields, his hands touching each tassel of grass

gentle, coaxing as if to draw me out and tame my infinite fervor,

to quench my wild thirst.

Day 42 of #the100dayproject - Moon as Aged Cheese

Moon as Aged Cheese

The moon is milk curdled with a couple

drops of lemon. It once sprawled

like the milky way; a spilled bucket

of milk across the sky. A squirt of citrus

brought it together into the shape

of a curdled globe, a head of cheese.

I raise it out of the vast vat

of space, that black ink brine

of salt and meteorite. I take a bite

from it, ripe with gravity. The mass of its

flavor, floral, ribboned with silver mold,

bitter, creamy. I will pair it with andromeda

in my stemmed wine glass, swirl the galaxy

and sip its aroma, the taste of black holes and

rolling the fragrance of deepest space, silence

casked and barreled, the universe a cellar,

cool and damp, storing away the flavors

of earth, planet, and shooting star.

Day 41 of #the100dayproject - Internal Labor

Internal Labor

I am a stethoscope of hearing,

My ear curved internally to listen

To the sound of my neck muscles

Stretching, relaxing, creaking

Like the sound of evergreens

As the wind sends them listing

Against themselves. I can hear

The sound of ear wax as it cracks

And pops, the pressure like

A release of a soda can tab,

Suction and bubbles, or plastic

Packaging, taking a whole mass

Of it in hand and wringing

Until every cell bursts at once.

All the sounds move to the rhythm

Of my blood, pulsing. My heart

Beat overshadows any other sound,

Even the engulfing wave of vibration

From my throat swallowing, the ripple

Effect of my vertebrae clicking

In my neck. My internal motions

How red and endearing, to listen

To my body glisten through its

Daily work, expanding and contracting

Itself in a routine of janitorial work

The cleaning and healing,

The endless hours of upkeep.