lilAc lAment

in twelve steps


Step One;


outside my house

a black bus, windows tinted,

stops. but imprisoned inside,

i remember children, curly

haired like my own.

i remember home.


Step Two;


lips torn by fruit, juice bitten

bone, hungry i turn to Him.

i am not my own.


Step Three;


i let him into me, longing

to restore my pain, grape

numb, i bleed a violet stain.




Step Four;

inside the house,

i take inventory of myself

five fingers for every

hand, one apron for

every wife.

Step Five;

i married myself to God.

He is my skin, my condom

captor, cradling my lungs,

my stomach, my thoughts.

He protects me from the outside.

Step Six;

bruised plums,

my children pain.

Step Seven;

humbly, i ask Him

to remove my shortcomings.

He takes my mouth. He takes

Step Eight;

me, for many i have

harmed.i carve their names

between my thighs.

Step Nine;

i am trapped in my

house and call out

Step Ten;

i admit i am wrong.

Outside my window lilacs bloom

Step Eleven;

i call out to my children

Step Twelve;

the bus carries my children

away, and my voice litters

the lawn with the lilacs.

i give the rest to Him.