And what did I forget
to listen to in the dark,
trumpet of Calla Lilly:
white & smooth
as the uncrossed legs of a woman in love?
You bloomed. I slept in my house
somewhere in time, a pulse
in the center
of every pearl of rain—
as wet doves circled from every rooftop
sewing all trees with the jewels of storm.
It’s been a long time
since I sang, transformed
by breath. I stand open now
under this lavish falling sky,
where I am nothing really at all,
but white shoulder blades, ribs, breasts,
Call me by my given name
you wilding birds, you whispering stars.
The blood does recall what’s true.