nocaGL.jpg

For a minute or more, I was dead as you,

as you were technically dead

before the end was absolute—

before your brain conceded.

For a minute or more, my world was edged in blossoming dark,

engrossing, on the cusp of consent.

Blackbirds congregated, chattered ‘round my head, and

they called dibs on my vital organs—

heart, liver, kidneys, and lungs.

One expressed explicit interest in

my spleen—

keen student of human anatomy,

morbid corvid.

Then a cardinal came with your breath on its wings,

and I breathed.

I just breathed.

I breathe still…

 

© Kindra M. Austin

image: Houston Audubon

 

 

 

last-judgment2.jpg

Come on down from there,

if only for a quick minute.

The last time I saw you is

unsatisfactory in hindsight.

Retrospection is a bitch dressed in my skin—

I’ve become leprous.

I may not pray to God, but I do

talk to Jesus. My words

fall on dead ears.

Christ will not come to me.

And if only for a quick minute, you will not

come down from there.

*

Your mother keeps on ringing me.

I don’t answer.

Does my cruelty hurt you terribly?

Some things I just can’t do to honor you.

To answer is to satisfy Jehovah, and I do not

wish to please Him. He’d used her willing hands to

ruin you. I’ve decided that

forgiving trespasses does not heal me.

Leave the forgiving to God.

Some things are simply

unforgivable

by the human heart.

*

You were both meaner and kinder than me.

I float about the in-between,

neither better nor worser.

Mother, how could you have

ever thought yourself

lesser than me?

You were my teacher—

the one who’d showed up

drunk every day,

but a teacher nonetheless.

And I wish you’d come down from there,

if only for a quick minute.

*

Come on down from there,

if only for a quick minute.

The last time I saw you is

unsatisfactory in hindsight.

 

© Kindra M. Austin

(image: Rick Richards)

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Something happens, and I am reminded that

all of the good words have been taken by the 80s.

I can’t write you a heavy synth song, penned in black kohl;

can’t dip my heart into inderivative hair dye—

there’s no such thing, really.

***

Something happens, and I am reminded that

I can’t call you.

***

Something happens, and I am reminded that

I can’t hug you.

***

Something happens, and I remember that

I’d forgotten to miss you for 5 whole fucking minutes.

***

There are 300 seconds in 5 fucking minutes, and 3,600 seconds in 1 hour, which means there are 86,400 seconds in 24 hours, or 1,440 fucking minutes in a goddamned day, which means there’s a lot of fucking time spent forgetting to remember that you’re dead.

***

And I can’t even manage to write you a love song.

 

(image: slate.com)

 

tumblr stars

Cleanse me in stardust,

And I might apprehend love,

Cosmically;

For I’ve been shipwrecked,

Cataclysmically—

Marooned inside of mine

(K.M.A.)

 

Love screams behind

Clenched teeth

Just out of reach

Swallowed by time

Solitary supernova

Catastrophically

Unaccompanied

(1Wise-Woman)

 

Claustrophobic frenzied

Heart rattles my ribcage—

A prisoner imprisoned by

Distortions of love lost to

A realm intangible

Cerebral cruelty

(K.M.A.)

 

Calamitous heartbreak

Emaciated emotion

A last plea

Romancing the edge of mercy

Waves wash over me

Exhorting

Gracious galaxy

Essential escape

(1Wise-Woman)

 

Deserted, I lay in the sand and

Look up to the heavens

See the bright, desolate beauty—

Silver blue dots printed upon the black

My jailer knows no more bounds than my sorrow

(K.M.A.)

 

Saline azure sky

Corona Borealis and

Moons melancholy malice

Torments this love torn tabernacle

On the precipice of redemption

Before night is done

Echo gods call with

Shooting star shattering shackles

(1Wise-Woman)

 

Selene, Titan deity—

Mother Moon, usher of diamond dust

I am cleansed

(K.M.A.)

 

Love, a winged steed

Lighting the way

I am freed

(1Wise-Woman)

 

image: Tumblr

 

Thank you, 1Wise-Woman, for writing with me.

I’m so honored to know you, and to call you a

Warrior Sister of mine.

You truly touch my heart.