Woman Meets World, Finger Paints
In a far off place,
you fished by night,
pulling angry salmon
from the dark sea.
*
Your limit reached,
you struggled home,
weighted by world stores,
bending your strong back.
*
Nowhere near home,
you found me, beached,
lying against yellow grass,
dying, choking on dust.
*
You thought to cast a line,
a voice inside, "Follow her,
to do so is to find you,"
and so you readied hook.
*
Somewhere between chance,
and your firm set design,
metal shot through my cheek,
deep sink, setting me to anger.
*
I fought against your lifeline,
working the hook loose,
then deeper to my flesh,
thrashing, prepared to bleed.
*
Yet, you stood ground,
held steady the line,
and reached further
to gaff my enraged form.
*
I landed then, steady shore,
far from the barren land,
where I had been starving,
crippled, grieving, nearly drowned.
*
Because you love well,
you gashed my skull,
and began the process
of ripping loose my gills.
*
My eyes, once jaundiced,
malaise-glazed over,
shot life's blood red,
my mouth gaping in awe.
*
You reached your hands,
deep to tear me open,
everything I could be,
clinging to your fingers.
*
My blood gushed warm,
loose, free to flow,
as you sliced me through,
chin to gut to pubic bone.
*
No surprise, you found
my stomach emptied,
a year of grieving
eating my guts clean.
*
Digging deeper, pearls!,
infinite eggs set to wait,
my core not so gone,
future gifts still hidden.
*
You gathered me to you,
dropping your previous load,
and you hiked me home,
back straight, firm resolve.
*
This, just a year ago,
and you say today,
you still like the colors
of the sky in my world.
*
I like these colors too,
and thank you true ;
you found and bled me,
giving me the paint.... for p. always ... all ways.
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Erin
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