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,
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.
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.