Holaday Mason

Issue #
February 28, 2015


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
of skin;

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,
dark blood.

Call me by my given name
you wilding birds, you whispering stars.

The blood does recall what’s true.

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