She Holds Herself So Tight

1.

she holds herself so tight the skin turns white/
the skin so tight, she curls/ embryonic/ 
into herself/ a curve of laughter behind mirrors/ 
she agonises/ washes herself in moonlight/ 
her body bleached/ curled up pale upon pale rocks/
a whisper of finger curled on her breast.

her hair is black, oil black 
witch’s hair, her hair,
her cunt hair a curled finger
cool blue finger
drawn with lipstick licks. 

her eyes are black
black as jasmine oil
black as inside out mirrors.

her eyes are black 
black as a jissomed jazz song/ her skin
white as the crone moon.

inside her, the moon
is an ocean.

inside her, the baby seed grows 
she vomits/ collapses in a heap of her vomit.

the cigarette burns down.

his hand is motionless,
curled round his metal penis.

the ocean does not wash away 
her body smell/ does not disentangle
the scented threads of jasmine, 
jissom and bitter sweat/ it breaks
in white horse fury/ her body 
on sharp anaemic rocks.

her laugh 
is a thousand splinters.

white rocks, white body, white moon/ 
the blue sky is too blue/ it hurts the eyes/ 
too blue, like the waters breaking 
on her shoreline.
	
she dreams that she’s an island.

the sky is too blue/ the grass too green/
too green, like the too green snake 
which slithers on its belly 
thru’ the too green grass.

the trees are black/ just right/ 
black, like her witch’s hair/ 
the trees reach up 
and reach up,
crying to the sky

she holds herself tight/ her skin, white/ tight/
taut/ an embryo form curving/ carved from mirror.

her belly is ripe, but the milk is sour.

 
2.

her glass gown was too long, 
too tight/ she should 
have danced all night.
	
oh baby, oh baby, please! 
his voice teased
her clothes to splinters.

her black hair dangles loose now
untied of its rainbow ribbons/ black hair 
against white skin/ lipstick lips 
painted on a bloodless face.

cunt red/ the lipstick kisses 
on his brass torso -
oh baby baby please 

cunt juice/ like sulphuric acid
on his brass
cock

glass splinters in his hand/ 
glass, brass, glass/ fragments 
of carriage clock/ 
a chronological mockery

a gift
from smirking chronos:
the god who sucks the soul dry.

 
3.

the ballroom is empty/ masks
and broken glass scattered
upon the polished floor

the caretaker sweeps up 
the detritus of devil-may-care
transient delight/his uniform
blacker than the blackest of nights.

she is eggshell/ laughing/ washed up/ 
white/ her hair, black as bitumen, 
reeking of jasmine oil.

he is brass, skeletal/ robed in black/ 
black as kristallnacht.

she is oval glass/ splintering/ 
fragmenting
to the dead moon’s call.

he stretches out 
his greedy-baby metal fingers/ they grab
and grasp at her soft flesh,
pull open the drunken flaps
of her labial flesh.

 
4.

oh baby baby please
the black semen saturating
the milky egg/ his naked brass body, 
suddenly limp/ limpid/ illuminated
as if glowing from within.

the acid seed in her belly/ fragments 
of metal and glass scattered across 
the polished wooden floor. 

luminous brass/ opaque glass.

he sings in his sleep 
oh baby baby, 
I’m begging you please.
	
she listens to the moon/ the waves 
in her belly.
	
she cries 
a river of glass and jasmine oil.

in her palm a sliver of glass/ a cut,
a cunt, a stigmata...

a reminder/ there is no joy 
that cannot be broken/ for every cocktail 
there is a crucifixion.
	
 
5.

she is white, cold, alone/ the baby grows 
inside her/ a monstrous incubus, 
sucking the life out of her.
	
she is eggshell bits/ splinters of glass,
specks of moonlight/ all wrapped up 
in dead white
skin.

the caretaker sweeps her up 
into his plastic bag/ black/ black as 
the devil’s seed/ he sweeps her up
with all the weekend’s detritus/ bottles, 
cans, cigarette packets, condoms, 
paper hankies, lipstick containers, masks 
and fragments of brass and glass.
	
he pushes his brush languidly 
thru’ all the trash/ whistling 
his favourite pop song 
oh baby,
oh baby please,
i’ll get down on my knees...

she curls up in a thousand splinters/ curls up 
in the rubbish of a thousand dreams 

she only wanted 
to dance/ she only wanted to dance.

the crone moon calls her/ calls the waves 
in her belly.
 
she curls up in cramps/ the skin ripples/ taut, 
tortured, impaled/ she holds herself tight -
she holds herself so tight the skin turns white.