Eve was not born from Adam’s rib…..
Fading away, wings of shivering birds
peeling off my skin- not a nest but a shield.
I do not speak. I do not live. I spit on the beginning
you should not see, black helmet of faith.
‘I have done it again. One year in every ten’-
She said. I take and re-take the acid of her vein,
And I crawl like her baby around her long neck
Creep, drag, duck, purge….the roots of my hair!
The limbs of my womb- move!- again and again.
I have killed the spider in my tongue.
Now—be my guest—you can sing the song
But wait, wait until dawn.
The black phantom of love is not gone
Purple, blue, yellow lights of stone merge…
He is still eating with honey, my hands in his sex.
London, September 2009