she holds herself so tight
the skin turns white
1.
she holds herself so tight the skin turns white/
the skin so tight, she curls/ embryonic/
into herself/ a curve of laughter behind mirrors/
she agonises/ washes herself in moonlight/
her body bleached/ curled up pale upon pale rocks/
a whisper of finger curled on her breast.
her hair is black, oil black
witch’s hair, her hair,
her cunt hair a curled finger
cool blue finger
drawn with lipstick licks.
her eyes are black
black as jasmine oil
black as inside out mirrors.
her eyes are black
black as a jissomed jazz song/ her skin
white as the crone moon.
inside her, the moon
is an ocean.
inside her, the baby seed grows
she vomits/ collapses in a heap of her vomit.
the cigarette burns down.
his hand is motionless,
curled round his metal penis.
the ocean does not wash away
her body smell/ does not disentangle
the scented threads of jasmine,
jissom and bitter sweat/ it breaks
in white horse fury/ her body
on sharp anaemic rocks.
her laugh
is a thousand splinters.
white rocks, white body, white moon/
the blue sky is too blue/ it hurts the eyes/
too blue, like the waters breaking
on her shoreline.
she dreams that she’s an island.
the sky is too blue/ the grass too green/
too green, like the too green snake
which slithers on its belly
thru’ the too green grass.
the trees are black/ just right/
black, like her witch’s hair/
the trees reach up
and reach up,
crying to the sky
she holds herself tight/ her skin, white/ tight/
taut/ an embryo form curving/ carved from mirror.
her belly is ripe, but the milk is sour.
2.
her glass gown was too long,
too tight/ she should
have danced all night.
oh baby, oh baby, please!
his voice teased
her clothes to splinters.
her black hair dangles loose now
untied of its rainbow ribbons/ black hair
against white skin/ lipstick lips
painted on a bloodless face.
cunt red/ the lipstick kisses
on his brass torso -
oh baby baby please
cunt juice/ like sulphuric acid
on his brass
cock
glass splinters in his hand/
glass, brass, glass/ fragments
of carriage clock/
a chronological mockery
a gift
from smirking chronos:
the god who sucks the soul dry.
3.
the ballroom is empty/ masks
and broken glass scattered
upon the polished floor
the caretaker sweeps up
the detritus of devil-may-care
transient delight/his uniform
blacker than the blackest of nights.
she is eggshell/ laughing/ washed up/
white/ her hair, black as bitumen,
reeking of jasmine oil.
he is brass, skeletal/ robed in black/
black as kristallnacht.
she is oval glass/ splintering/
fragmenting
to the dead moon’s call.
he stretches out
his greedy-baby metal fingers/ they grab
and grasp at her soft flesh,
pull open the drunken flaps
of her labial flesh.
4.
oh baby baby please
the black semen saturating
the milky egg/ his naked brass body,
suddenly limp/ limpid/ illuminated
as if glowing from within.
the acid seed in her belly/ fragments
of metal and glass scattered across
the polished wooden floor.
luminous brass/ opaque glass.
he sings in his sleep
oh baby baby,
I’m begging you please.
she listens to the moon/ the waves
in her belly.
she cries
a river of glass and jasmine oil.
in her palm a sliver of glass/ a cut,
a cunt, a stigmata...
a reminder/ there is no joy
that cannot be broken/ for every cocktail
there is a crucifixion.
5.
she is white, cold, alone/ the baby grows
inside her/ a monstrous incubus,
sucking the life out of her.
she is eggshell bits/ splinters of glass,
specks of moonlight/ all wrapped up
in dead white
skin.
the caretaker sweeps her up
into his plastic bag/ black/ black as
the devil’s seed/ he sweeps her up
with all the weekend’s detritus/ bottles,
cans, cigarette packets, condoms,
paper hankies, lipstick containers, masks
and fragments of brass and glass.
he pushes his brush languidly
thru’ all the trash/ whistling
his favourite pop song
oh baby,
oh baby please,
i’ll get down on my knees...
she curls up in a thousand splinters/ curls up
in the rubbish of a thousand dreams
she only wanted to dance,
she only wanted
to dance.
the crone moon calls her/ calls the waves
in her belly.
she curls up in cramps/ the skin ripples/ taut,
tortured, impaled/ she holds herself tight -
she holds herself so tight the skin turns white.
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