Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Left Behind (Finished for Now)

Left Behind

© 2008 Sandra Jean-Pierre

No

Not in that same place-

the barefoot on wet shower floor space
the dry heaving, chest collapsing place
not that half sleep/stumbling pace

Not from that place

where these lips crack
from neglect and under/use
where this brow furrows
from deep incandescent
soul searching truths
where thieves take from pockets
unearned souf (breath)

not in that place

of broken-words
and broken-ness
and un-done seams
in broken dreams


not from that place...

where I laid

naked

in those wilderness parts
frail hands my only guards
against the elements
against the malcontent
within this heart...

...that I gave

under the absence of pretense
without the guise of
repentant lies

I gave

the cradle
where my soul sleeps
the moments
between my heart beats
the womb
where my children speak

in a word: all of me

2 comments:

Cindy said...

there is such a quiet power behind your words, Sandra.

'where my children speak'

are you kidding me?

another great one, hon.

Sandra said...

:)

-S