anemone bloom

I.
the door is closing
god lives in my hips
and names me a
                  lily flower
in this hour i am owed
bread
                  and butter.
i have gone mad,
                  and hungry
for paradise.
i wash myself clean.
i will pray and
                  i will listen
II.
he skipped town
      with the dead girl
and, i having grown
tired welcomed Grief
among the flowers
   (blonde petals curl in
   strange light)
nothing could stop
         my opening to life
in all of my tenderness
                  and confusion.
for every time i do,
i see myself, i see god
and i see
no difference


III.
i had a dream
you knelt at my feet

this is the only way
we could ever meet
should we ever meet
                                    again
i paid no attention to
the ache of my
sternum split chest
red like night bloomed
anemone when i wake

IV.
i made a mistake
spilled new blood,
let what is dead
                     stay dead
i am done waiting
for flowers to bloom
from the same rot
that only
                        Ever lied
about its becoming