My Valentine

My Valentine

You touch me
Your fingers closing
And opening
Lightly
Over the holes
The openings
And orifices
Of my body

You place
Your mouth
Over mine
And blow
Softly
The breath of life
Fills me
Inflates me
Brings me alive

You play me
I am
Your flute
Wooden
In my flesh
The notes you find
Float
Delicately
Achingly
Dancing on unseen currents
Like the smoke and smell
Of incense from India
Lingering
Before being carried off
Into your silence

Your sitarIMG_0515
It’s metallic notes
Cut me
Like King Solomon’s
Sword of truth
Revealing
Who rightly owns
This child of mine
Borne all these years
Alone

The buzz
Of it’s electric wires
Carves me
A butcher’s band saw
Ripping me
From one end
To the other
You lay me open
Down the middle
The flesh
The bones

Reaching in
As hunter, as killer
Victor
Owner of me
Your hand touches
Then pulls out
My heart
You hold it high
Turning it
For me to see
To know
To feel once again
While you squeeze

Played together
This flute
That sitar
I become, willingly
The sacrificial lamb
On your altar
Of rite
And reverence
Hung now
Upside down
To bleed out
This blood spilled
In anger
Hate
Revenge
Blood I have tasted
As the wolf
Living in sheep’s clothing

You hang me
By my heels
With one hand
In the other
You hold my heart
You marry me
To myself
What was once taken
Now given back

At last
You spank me
Like a baby
To come to life
To breathe the air
That others breathe
To welcome me
To this other world

JL Grady

Why Waste This Moon

Why waste this moon

… There won’t always be moonlight
When the softness of a zillion white photons
Drifts down on you like snow with no touch, no sound, no feel, no cold
Filtered thru branches and trees, windows and blinds
To settle all around
Making even romance seem possible in this stillness
Lasting for hours
As you breathe under the night’s warm liquidity

Until the dream is disturbed and broken
By the singular call of this first bird
Willing to go into a new day 

Alone

JLGrady