Dark Star

Dark star
in a deep crevasse,
squirms in raw light
where she's been buried
under sheets of ice
in winter seasons
of my heart.

It would be easier to welcome
the cool breath of conditioning
to refreeze those red shudders
in a still beauty:
cold, lace-like, eternal.

But Life has me by the throat,
by the ache in my ovaries,
by the deep gurgle in my belly,
and the good hunger.

I only ask
that the flame of Her tongue
be gentle
as She bleeds me
into softening streams
that move out
over the thirsty world.

Gentle
but thorough.