For The Madness

When I found you naked and still weary of being
     touched
          were you concerned then of the Sins of Man
Stricken deaf your cheeks bore footprints of blood
Your pale stomach a road map to interstellar
     neighborhoods
          beyond our reach
Were you burned in last night’s fire
The Dakotas clutching photographs and stuffed
     animals
          while rubber hoses snaked between their flannel knees
               and Dad’s throbbing blue balls
Read the story of your spine to me
     and count all the days of your life in a single
          breath
Waste nothing you stretched your growing frame into a woman’s
     skin
Faced yourself in the mirror every day and watched
     your breasts
          for hours
The axe falls heavy, does it not
     when the wood is ripe for the blade
Lying there like you did in the brambles amongst
     shoe-vine and
          white-tip’d clover
I couldn’t help falling in love with you
For the madness flows both uphill and down and the
     woods go on for days.

04.2013

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