Sunday, September 23, 2012

Vessel



Vessel

I’m at sea when I notice the sea 
has poured itself out of my lips. 
Was it years since I looked?  
Years since I noticed 
diaphanous cracks, the furtive 
conversion of this, my very own 
mouth into desert? I am 
rocked underfoot, heaved 
towards this mystery in a 
dim, feathered mirror where I stood
posing in ropes 
of antediluvian pearls. 
In this mirror, my lips
purse in their loss despite decades 
drenched in delectable lovelies—
our prized Coca Mocha Shine, 
Cinnamon Dazzle, Spiced
Sugar Sheen.  
In this mirror, I witness 
the beginning of exodus, 
sea roaring under me, sea 
weeping out of me. 
Fine lines they call them. My vessel 
etching its hereafter.


--Kristen McHenry




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