TRANSFIGURATION BETWEEN THE GRAVES by Carmen Calatayud
It doesn't smell like burning skin anymore.
I'm the stone cutter
who protects me from my grief.
I'm terrified I'll bloom wide open.
I want to take my nerves
and drag them from the mud,
prove the moon isn't mechanical
and worm away from pointing fingers
and god-sized lies.
I want to sit in the broken rain
and watch headstones dance and collapse
and turn into the green smoke
I could never see before.
I want electricity to drench me.
I'm a shaky miracle, gargling fire and water.
I want chaos and beauty in one big bite.
I want to feel the sum of all my lives
and feel the zero before I was born,
because my hands are full of flames
and so empty the palm lines are gone.
I want to sweat without explaining
and hold my death for an instant.
I want to be part of the air that travels
between grave and sky,
that visits this city and brings flowers to it,
that filters the tired bones
above and below the ground.
I want to float unnoticed
and swallow myself
and wait for nothing like a saint.
To read more poetry by Carmen Calatayud go to www.depoetry.com/poets/201002/carmen_calatayud.html.
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The Delaware Poetry Review, or DePoetry.com, is an online compilation of amazing, contemporary poetry gathered by a group of erudite editors based in the Mid-Atlantic Region. This notable compilation of poetry has been available since 2007, publishing new editions about once a year.
Each edition features a variety of poets chosen by the editors. This blog features our published poets.
More new works from the Mid-Atlantic Region are available at DePoetry.com. For feedback, contact depoet@capegazette.com or go to facebook.com/delawarepoetryreview.
