The Girl Who liked to Be Cheerful

Village Girl

Village Girl


Behind the whitewashed house,
the ocean drops in
on its bright conches.
The girl, naked, lies down
at the edge of sea and sky, watches
the moon: a spider consuming
blue flies. She feels sure she’ll wear
the shoes she bought last year, still new.
The ship’s boy, the one with the cap askew
and fire in his armpits, will help her clean
the sand between toes.

The Girl Who Likes to Be Cheerful

All day I walk among people,
their bodies smell musty tied
up the neck, or I climb trees, rough
against my limbs, bite an apple,
tongue through toothy smile.
I find nothing else till my dress
falls from me.
I wait to be loved between floating
cotton and the branch I cling to.
The breeze grows, it grazes
fingers and toes— pink birds
derail, grasp seed-laden air.
I fly fuzzing
apricot hair with giggle fits.



Reflection

Sit here, opposite me.
I'll look at the slope
of your shoulder, imagine
I am the shirt that makes
you sweat in the cold.
Let me watch an underworld
moon stand stuck above your head.
A moon with an out of tune
violin and a silverplated gun.



Small Dialogue

You know, dreams do not exist, he told her.
Yes, I do, now that I see the bed, a savage
beast that strops its teeth on sleep
as nails carve names on sheets—

You know, death does not exist—he added.
Yes, I do, now that I am dead. My gowns are
in the drawers; I only miss the scent of the late
rose you pin on the lace at night, she murmured.

You know, love does... —He paused and stared
at the sky's hem slipping off the window.


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