The Process

I invoke your name,

that’s how we start this process.

With no candles, no holy water, no statues, no objects.

Just your name.

Secrets of my process.

And I think about you breathe.

Your breathing sets the pace,

the tempo.

The punctuation.

And I think about your flesh.

Thats the body for the emotion,

thats the rubric.

I have made these for years.

and I have made books with different names.

Different muses.

Women who I have found the only gods I know in.

And I breath back.

I think of it like painting, like directing

and I dont know those in a classic sense

so I write in those imaginations.

And I praise you, cause womanhood

is the only religion I submit to.

And I end with hands cupped,

I do think of elephants and lotus flowers,

its the Buddhist in me,

One of two religions I have fondly loved, the other Baha’i

I make you these enchantments,

descriptors of your glory

because love is my fuel.

And I end with a prayer

that I can’t share.

But this is my writing process.



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