LaVeau- word portrait

Like purpose clings to meaning,

round hips and waist.

Cleaving, pulling her into himself;

knowledge and understanding,

conjugal and complete.

Remembering the summer,

with eyes closed.

My chest sinks into itself again today,

until it hurts to breathe.

Without him

 a fleeting idea.

Without her

 hollow and aimless.

The constant feel of his words at the nape of me

gone now.

The fear of ancient familiar lowliness

returned.

The part of me that presses even still,

wallowing.

Mortification is a shame offering.

Subdued by scrapes

while lines like roads rise on my naked skin,

grieving places never been.