Deena Salzman
Salt

You smashed me into pieces and fell in love with the shatters.
I thought about rebuilding my Cathedral but it all hurt too much
And now there's nothing left to do but watch the butterflies
And the Trains roll by as I cradle myself with the narrow lines,
Tipping and swaying, hesitant to step over. There was a path
And now there are Trees bending in Songs of Innocence and Nonsense

I remember when I was a little boy and now I'm finally a little girl,
A Butterfly enchanted with my own little wings
Gazing dazingly at the moist pulsing cocoon
You said just because you're little it doesn't mean I don't fear you
Just little girl, Little girl. Halfway to Faerie and halfway to Hell
Sweeping up the human bits to tuck away until I know what they're for

I bang my head and cut my hands to remind myself how much it hurts
To forget how to hurt. Like you have. You have.
If you can't cry for death, little red, squalling
And you can't cry for yourself, bruised and burned not fractured and scattered,
You may never cry again

I'm skipping in the Ocean, catching shells. Your shell shines like a manmade thing
And I never meant to taste the slippery salty Mess within
And I cannot open myself up to the burning shapeless Earthly summer
I keep within myself, but I burn my tongue on Winter
And I remember how I never used to freeze.

You can see me as something fractured or something ephemeral.
You can see me as something warm and whole when I remember my duties
I'll be indebted to you for as long as I live because you never let me give anything back.
And all that I could give you, if you would take it, is a little Hope
That one day you'll look out over the Ocean with younger eyes
And cry yourself senseless and feel the sorrow of life
And never want to give it up.

Gaia's Lament

I lost my virginity to someone else but I lost my innocence to you.
I once believed we're all good no matter what we try to do
My Goddess is a Mother whose children all have flown
In search of something shitty like a pack of misled crows
They left the Earth for America on a burning golden roan
And I have been trampled like a blushing meadow
And I have a landmine beneath my skin
It scares me like adulthood and is bitter like a sin.

<< Back to Issue 3, 2000