Mollusk

6.9.06

It wants to gobble her up

at times

the arched, aimless voice of

cante jondo.

It makes her dream of

crashing, merging

into another

to absorb the manna,

the meat, the mead.

It claws down her spine

and propels

her forward.

It needs to spit

her out

of the mollusk shell

from which juices spill.

It will shear her hair

and peel her skin

until the living glow,

the heart beat,

is revealed.