Lucille Wright
Colorado State University
I only wanted to love and not be blamed:
Get her off of the floor
Quickly
Before the grout between the tiles
Runs red
Before she stiffens
Into marble
Take her to me
There is still time
Before the red runs dry
And she starts to bleed gold
She is still soft
I will steal her
Before you can add more stone to your quarry
Bring her home
To the hearth
Where her blood will fertilize the soil
And the heat will keep her fresh
Out of this holy place
Devoid of earthly pleasures
Ground her
She isn’t yours to martyr
Pull her off of her hook in the corner
Break the glass that holds her bones
She is no flower
To be pruned and plucked
And pressed between the pages
Of your weathered book
You loved her less when her heart was beating
When her skin was warm to the touch
When she chose
To touch me,
When she traced my stomach with kisses
And her hands,
So holy,
Were stained with my sin
You loved her less when her eyes were on me,
And her voice,
So angelic,
Sang hymns of the snake,
Not of eden.
Please,
Don’t put the marigolds over her eyes
She never liked them
That’s why our garden is full of lilacs
Please,
Leave me something
to put on a chain and hang by my heart
Please,
Let me see her one more time
Before you wash all
But the ivory and pearls
Off the steps
And into the gutter
You’ve draped her in lace and satin.
Blue and white.
Your virgin queen.
She was not your queen,
And certainly no virgin.