Everyday Goddess
I caught her, poolside, in
my peripheral vision
drawn by the golden cuffs rendering
her hair a tapestry. Emitter of intoxicating
Susinum; lily,
myrrh, cinnamon. She moved
through my chest like a spear, closing
the flesh.
Reappeared, reclining on the sun
lounger beside me.
I cried out distant words, thinking
myself possessed.
She placed a hand on my brow,
showered
me with images of feluccas, jasmine
flowers
pomegranates, to a cacophony of
lutes.
Blood stilled, I wondered,
“Apparition or interior locution?”
Now she is gliding down the aeroplane
aisle
smiling approvingly at clouds and
transient
shafts of light. In my house,
she studies
clock faces, sings solemn songs at
sunset
kneels before running water from
the tap.
Under her tutelage, I learn the symbol
for all good things, and grow
to know
she brings the boatless to land. She
stretches
her wings over my bed at night. I
sleep
as if composed of shifting desert
sands.
By Fiona Perry
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