bloodletting

Erin

I don't mind admitting
that I reopened this wound
with the full awareness
of what would follow:

of how it would sting,
and bleed blood
I had not seen for months,

of the salt
I would be tempted
to sprinkle
and mix well with it,

knowing it would lead to
the throbbing, the pulsating
in a rhythm identical
to my heart's: gasping,
panicking, aching freely
and rapidly and seemingly
without limit or concern
for its owner

and I still went forward.
and I gave myself over
to the kind of pain
that could have blinded me
if I had let it

but when I let that blood
flow out of me,
I didn't let it.
I let go of it

and started to teach myself
how to thread brand new stitches
through my skin
and sew this wound up
and smile

keep it

Erin

I lost your grey sweater,
the one you gave me to wear
when you saw that I was cold:
bare arms, shivering,
and me, never planning ahead.

I liked the way I looked in it.
I hoped that you liked
the way I looked in it.
I liked wearing it
and thinking about how
you had looked
when you had worn it.

when you told me,
"keep it",
I shouldn't have,
but I took it to be
a promise.

it was comfortable.
I liked the cliche: the girl
wearing her boyfriend's
sweater to sleep.
did it smell like you?
if it did, I didn't notice.

I slept in it twice: once,
in your bed, curled up
beside you, and
the second time,
small and alone
in my own bed.

two days later, I lost it.
I don't know
how I could have lost it
so quickly.
four days later,
I lost you

I don't know how I could have

where is everyone?

Some poems by me, Amy.

Poems from Israel:

I.

I’ve learned that no one is at the door knocking for you
Unless it is so loud
You've never heard a noise like that before
That you’d bet your whole life
That somebody has come just to save it
They aren’t hungry or cold
They need nothing of your home
Have come just to save it

II.

I remember being so young
That I thought I understood most things
But now, more confused
More learned, and taller
I know I wasn’t young
Was only hesitant to ask
Didn’t know there was a truth

I was never so small
That I couldn’t reach you
I am in between stars
Those you reach for
Those you tread on when you forget you have a past
Greatest brightest

III.

Prove nothing to the earth
Except for this, except for light
That any photograph who tries to capture sun
Centered, brawling, shutters slow to move the earth around her-
Is really just of you, not you as one, but of us all
And what to make of those from darkness
Those who pity open air
I’ve always prayed they won’t forgive
The one who brought them there

IV.

I can't forget a friend
I can let a bird go
I never throw out letters
I’ve been told I have a heart
I forgive, something in me beats so loud

V.

I heard you coming
The wind turned to rust
The only evil in you
Is that you hate to see me run

VI.

Find someone who speaks low
Holds soft
Runs fast
I see you in the sky
I feel you in the ground

VII.

Kostya said he was the fastest runner
They’d drilled us for a few seconds,
In between drills

He decided it was him
Back and forth,
To and from the lamppost
Futile is light
When desperation flares can burn your skin

I’m glad he didn’t vomit like the others, I stood near him

VIII.

The light for the entire room
Next to my bed
For the first time


Poems from January 15, 2007


II.

Our farmers are our country
Who eats soy?
Nobody!
Who benefits?
The few.
Who fights the war?
Nobody!
Who benefits?
The ones who won’t die.
And we all
Come to death
In the end
Farm a life,
Start a fire.

III.

Alone in the house
I am at home
Is it a sin
Feeling love all alone?

V.

In your animal state
You accompany me
Rip out my eyes
That I’ve always used as hands
So I can finally see

VI.

If you need somebody to understand
Shine on
If you’d rather be
Someone’s coal in the dark
Dull the sparks and come clean
Go to sleep, we understand