by the body she’s stuck in
my love wants to change the world
she thinks she has so much to give
not realizing how much she takes from others
my love is loyal until she senses rejection of any kind
then she flies like a bird but has less memory
of where she came from
i would like to protect you from my love
she is the creator and the destroyer
she wants so much from you
she would kneel at your feet
and clutch at your heart
that’s the way she does things
but i am her slave
no longer
i will witness
the way you tilt your head
undulate your shoulders
fling me onto your back
cradle me
hold me upside down
whisper love lyrics into my ear
carry my pink purse not recall it all
run away
call me anorexic
tell me your ex-girlfriend was the love of your life
that you will never love anyone that way again
and my love and i will simply watch and wait
until we discover
who you really are
PART 3
love poems for girls
for the girls
i searched for him in the dancer dark
and i prayed for him in the new moon park
and i called to him with my poetry
but perhaps i was not yet ready
because he did not come
instead the girls danced along with their arms
full of flowers
songbirds on their shoulders
they made me strawberry smoothies
decked with parasols
and photographs of fairies
and they told me that i had helped them
now we want to help you they said
their tears were like the rain that washed
grief’s memory
from my back step
we put on my grandmother’s tattered silk kimonos
and my eight-inch platforms
took photos of each other laughing and glamorous
and ate red velvet cake on rose petal strewn plates
they were my sisters and my daughters
and in those moments i forgot he was not there
and i forgot to fear
that he might never come
pain is like an onion
remove one layer and the next is there
keep peeling, my beloved
peeling and chopping
putting in the pan
fry it to translucency
and eat it
let it digest
it’s only been a year and a half
since he took your heart from your chest
peeled it chopped it fried it ate it spit it out
eventually a new one will grow back
eventually
the tears
will stop
ornate
what makes you think you can be so ornate,
my darling?
even your name means princess
even your hair with its long black curlicues
even your eyes such dark blue as to be violet
what makes you think you can use such words
paving your poems with jewels and lights?
and your heart!
desiring that much
as if it were a victorian valentine in your chest
polished pink quartz chambers
or even an elizabethan pomegranate rose
a rococo clock all golden and decked with cherubs
ornate and especially your sorrow what makes you think?
this is what—
your birthright
your sorrow a guide to lead you on your journey
it says go forth be bold be brilliant
desirous of what is yours
for this is who
you are
teenage fairy: for m
i didn’t feel like i was enough
so i changed my nose
and i changed my skin
and i changed my bones
and i changed my blood
and i changed my home
and i changed my love
and i changed my clothes
and i changed my belly
and i changed my friends
and i changed my mind
until the man i wanted came to me
but after a while he left anyway
and i was alone with this new self
we slept in our bed with the roses she and i
and we sat by the pond waiting for water lilies
and we wrote poems to each other
and we photographed ourselves in the mirror
and i was still lonely, rummaging in the bed
in my sleep
seeking someone who had never been there at all
then this big-eyed, long-legged
fourteen-year-old fairy wrote to me
and she said she didn’t think she was beautiful
and i told her not to let her pain confuse her
trick her into thinking untruths
and i told her that her pain was not her fault
but that she could use it to make beauty
instead of to hurt herself
and that night i slept peacefully
in my own arms
the little mermaid: for ama
you dreamed of gills so you would not drown in the
sea of him you dreamed of a tail instead of legs to
keep him out you gave up your voice hoping that
would bring you the casing of green and silver scales
layered over hips shining your long legs fluttering
into fins where once were feet in shiny mary janes
you had the right hair already white lighting your
face you had a strand of your mother’s pearls
beneath your pillow you had the right dreams of
blue-green water faraway coastal cities where you
belonged instead of those parched towns where the
men hunted creatures like you and mounted them in
their living rooms but you did not get your fish tail
and your voice was gone even your legs didn’t work
quite right anymore you hobbled away from home
leaving a trail of blood and pearls men and women
followed you wanted to touch you and you let them
hoping one would know the spell but it was not until
you reached the pacific and flung yourself naked
into the surf your hair writhing like seaweed on the
water your eyes turning greener with the reflection
your breasts and between your legs finally your own
this is when you grew gills to really breathe this is
when you grew a tail prettier than your best french
gown this is when you found your scream your
poetry your voice
neptune’s daughter
confused by her fish’s tail
she wanted legs to walk with
a womb to birth a child
she blamed her father for this impediment
to her true nature
something she had inherited from him
like the potential for illness
oversensitivity
a tendency toward
