This voice

paint me Krishna blue
so I might sing infinity
unfold the darkness
where all forgotten stars are nestled
jingle-jangle them up and out
a sharp-shaken bedsheet
wake us

cerulean throat humming
now the hand-grip loosens
I think I heard words clamber
from my womb to your ears
all bloody, vulnerable
true

this voice, belly-born
my hands eager to sketch quantum secrets 
hiding in the rock pools
mother-of-pearl

I bore no children
but sang to them anyway.

Image by Bea Lehmann 2021 – Seaton Beach, August 2021, pencil

Posted by

Not really in the mood for defining myself.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s