My son (6) asked: “where do people go when they die?” I explained that no one really knows, but that people have different theories – sometimes based on which religion they believe in, and whether or not they believe in God. He quickly maintained that he does not believe in God, which he’s mentioned before. So, I asked him what he believes in. He replied: “I believe in you. I believe in love. I believe in the goddesses.”
The mother of love says go on give it open up
The crown heart thrush rises – to overlook precipice
Take aim, glowing out light embers
Cicatrix phosphenes in the fire radial
Belly was the boulder belly the chasm
Upright stone slab – a storm of grey wanting
She lifts, fragments:
Membrane wing,
two breath, flesh devour
Spiny, comb bearer, little ring
Ungulates
Love says: look and I am you.
A Poet Librarian 