ruin

can we be this

open? can we really be

this naked flesh

and bone broken

and pressed

together?

and then can we

be honest and

without shame?

this is a man

without guile

he said,

and then pointed

to the moment

the wound was fresh

and heart broken

i wandered

into a desert

full of searching

***

when the time

was complete

(a week,

40 days,

a year)

i awoke --

found that someone

made a poultice

and wrapped it around me

-- a cataplasmic cast

i found myself

shadowed

beneath a fig tree.

i reached upwards

and emptied

each branch,

filled my mouth

with seeds,

made myself a home

in the earth.

covered the scars

fingered in the skin

drew in the sand

new figures.