Two Poems

The Curse

[wpaudio url=”/audio/7_5/Richardson.mp3″ text=”listen to this poem” dl=”0″]

I pray this thorn pushes through me
into you. I ask poison to press
upon your palms and knees. I hope for
your permanent brown. Let the universe
feed you stones until your garden grows
sick with weeds.

The Cursed

[wpaudio url=”/audio/7_5/Richardson2.mp3″ text=”listen to this poem” dl=”0″]

I awoke with snow in my mouth, diamond
snakeskin between my legs. A small sooty
shadow fell on my cheek I tried to wipe it
but bone-hands held it over my head. I
felt as small as a cherry pit, my insides turning
like a rotten melon. I searched the skies for
a sign but my senses grew gray-blue like the
silver of a newborn kitten’s eyeball; glass-veined
and useless. I listened for the voice of my lover,
my mother, but all I heard were worms eating
their way through the crust of this dirty earth.