the fearful mysteries 

this is the fifth rotation
of the owl's head-- 
the walk in freezer's
locked door-- 
your breath it's own
phantom--
& it's been one
year since
you felt the earth 
beneath your feet
reject you & turn alien
& red --
there
are always the 
fearful mysteries

1.
Mars: the red
planet 
& her unfulfilled
promise to bare children--
she waits there--
red long-hair--
dipping her feet
in the bubble bath--
she waits there 
afraid 
of the hoarse cough
of God as he leans 
over to look at her
un-harvested body--
she is fearful of
the sun & supernova
even though jupiter
tells her that it's
thousands of years 
away & sometimes when
she sleeps she forgets
so is so red & wakes
up in a cold sweat
thinking she's soaked in
blood again

2.
the dark belly
of the ocean-- 
giant squid mouth--
gaping & unintentional--
tentacles thrashing
from the shower drain--
you do not
fight them-- your know
that ocean exists 
everywhere & no where--
oh how easily you
trusted the water 
& her shriek will
burst light bulbs--

3.
the deepening of
night-- as if 
the shadows of a room
begin to devour 
each other-- 
syringe-teethed &
ravenous-- you hear them
laugh in bed posts--
you pull the blankets
around yourself &
ask to sleep so that
you can remain ignorant
to how far the dark
can eat itself--

4.
absolute zero--
the sudden realization
of your own heart
will freeze & time
will sit there full
of terror & cotton--
you are terrified most
by the fear of shattering--
of tripping
as an ice sculpture 
& your skin turning
into shards of glass
on the kitchen floor--
you-- the blue & yellow
plate-- green broom
bristles taking
you back to God--
where is God in
your fearful mysteries?
does he believe you
when you tell him
you feel like breaking
is making
you feel more alive?

5.
the silent
hush of car tire
outside the window--
who passes your house
& do they remember you
& do they think of
you & 
are they you-- eight years
from now-- wandering
again at night away from
your body--
a car ride to calm the
nerves--
will they get back
or will you remain 
straddling 
flesh & reflection--
translucent 
& tossing
stones at your own
window--
this is the thrill of
leaving
our bodies-- 
this is the fear
not being able to return

count your fears--
say them again & again--
let your trepidation
write a bible-- bound
red & frightened--
number your fears--
marker on
your wrist-- write
them into your 
pulse & when you
fear me start
with the number 1--
count backwards 
back to your
skin