l look at an army green sketch of Buddha
is my soul in me
I want to ask the beige paint on the wall
or Am I in my soul?
I’m knock, knock, knockin on your door
is your door next to the window?
I see you in the fragrant daises in the yard
that must be you.
Aren’t you pretty?
Am i pretty?
Forget heaven, I got today
and a man who says he loves me
I’ve got today
and this sunroof on my beige Camry
I got the sun on my face.
Today I really see your face in the foggy rearview mirror.
He jumped in my soul the other day
like I was Daisy Duke
That red car, he jumped from the side window
as if he could drive my stick, as if he knew what buttons to push.
And I stood there with my shorts
making my legs naked…
these legs I’ve insured.
Without them I have no worth.
And I let him bleed my blood
I let him live inside me.
we are not friends.
There is no distance no difference between us
i Am him
he is me
(We share a toothbrush and some socks)
when we discovered this phenomenon
we had both suspected we were not alone
in this soul, this body, this life
We made up new words
Only we could understand
Tunes about tunes
from the eighties, from the nineties
paid tribute to Michael, Prince, and George Michael
Dead singers are sweeter.
and the songs we didn’t sing
were singing us.
we made imaginary paintings
watercolor French doors
on construction paper spirits
I stripped off my naked body
and there I really was
Floating in and out of love
feeling alive and dead
not caring about
what I would find inside me
You took my hand
and whispered truth, truth, truth
that’s when i knew,
there is no me
there is only what I want there to be
there is only we.
If there’s a woman in chains anywhere…
none of us are free.
If there’s a woman behind every man
who’s behind me?
we are all made of the same sari
made out of the same Banarsi silk
Don’t you cry, don’t you cry for me
this is all just spilled milk.