MollyGoLightly a song i heard on the radio today:

"say a little prayer for me
rose ma-ry rose ma-ry"
grendel had a baby...

...he had his father's eyes
Eowithien a beautiful smell, i gift from my friend and for my friend. represents: beauty of a religion 030302
amy when you've got PMS, think "rosemary". 030302
steel flower girl #2 As we walk together,
his hand reflexively thrums the rosemary bush at the fence,
gathering the smell of the slight-bruised leaves to his face.

Such delight in the sacred ingestion:
particles of oil sliding from leaf to palm to mucous membrane--
absorbed and decoded as scent.
He drifts in the space where molecules of flesh and fragrance mingle.
He is the herbed air and the one who breathes.
Imbiber and partaken, at once.

This miracle is enough, he thinks
to prove the unknowable,
to part the indivisible,
to make sad men stop wishing for death.

His other hand
is in mine.
Yet I--
being not so mysterious as a leaf,
nor coy as a perfume clinging to fingertip--
provoke no wonder.

I would beg a thousand judges for the chance
to dwell amid the atoms of air in his lungs;
To be breathed in.
To be invited into oneness, as the damnable lucky shrub.

But I have been mapped: mundane and foreign.
Clearly, I am
I lack the petals, the aromas, the nature that inspires.
So, he re-writes: "I am (not) in love."

And I, dulled by my not-being,
spin tender fantasies of one
who might hold me
with the reverence he spends
on a simple garden herb.
jane for remembrance 031109
what's it to you?
who go