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Lake Effect, Spring 2008, Volume 12, Crocus

Beckian Fritz Goldberg

Crocus

 

I wanted to stay in the earth:
There, I needed no skin—the dark
body was all around me.
I had no tongue.  Above me, sleep,
a heaven of snow.  Years,
years.  Then the split,

the blue heart lifted almost
out—who was coming to save me?
How would I know myself, outside
self...

And then the sky.  The you.
The first terrifying eye of a bird
coming down to me, a kiss
forced open.  When I was buried

I did not need to forget.  You
are what I need to forget
but not now—
not with everything in the air,
not with these lips
so designed to fail...

 

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