xii; the hanged woman.
reaper.. ... .
I am naked in the face of you.
a savage grace was born within
when you salt.rushed my fields with your desire,
cut my hair and hung it upon your trophy-wall
as a strangled, scarlet sin.
I still fear your moist hostility:
that scythe held to my throat.
Your slithering malicious gaze followed me... ...
..painted my body with cigarette burns and ashes
as I stripped for bathing and failed to scream.
I grieve for the severed shadow that abandoned me
in this gravekeeper's world.
here, the emaciated spirits laugh at me
still, so shamed.
.a Creatrix stumbling on broken, coltish legs,
barren and besmirched...
. ..weeping hymeneal blood.
i am the Hanged Woman.. ... .. lashed by memory
to the storm tree,
tau-crossed in pittura infamante.
My mouth, gashed into a scream that never comes. ..
the only language I knew then was borne of urine
stained starvation............... ....
the only language I know now is thunder.