Forgiveness

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my name is forgiveness
i am
a moth easily
lured into web
or flame or bulb
the wind's susurration
silenced by the sirens
roaring red
in the gladiator's ring.

blame pinions me
in a glass case
dust-covered and forgotten
by the rushing children
remembered only by the old
who see the moth flit
in the mind's theater --
luna, white-winged
and pale green
perched on the sweetgum.

youth hates me
and generals with their
lockstep march
and radicals sipping
molotov cocktails
and torching the cafes.

but the lined
and war-weary --
starved saints
paper dolls
my name is
on their desert lips
white wings taking flight
white wings that are more
than surrender --
my name is
forgiveness.

Fragility

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come to me
in your fragility
and not the masonry of your strength
cementing the bricks
of hard glances
adamantine words
shored with the rebar
of unbending spine
victorian corset -- a lace net with
the whalebone of propriety

come to me
with your scholar's hands
pale against a black binding
edged with red
page-edges worn
and loved raw
by fingertip touch

come to me
in your uncertainty
on the sand of desire
roughening the sole
the mouths of white surf
feasting on that other earth
and call to me
when your back is
against the stone
the crow perched
shadow on the shoulder

and i will cut you down
and bring the water
with the well of my palms
smoothing your pages
and shoring your earth

come to me
in your fragility
and not the strength
that steels the green of your flesh
honing the bone of your soul