“For, in the other, you are changed. Become other, and without recurrences. It is up to her to perpetuate your becoming, to give it back to you, voraciously deformed. A trace of your passage into her leaves a mark in the flesh that forever escapes you.”
-Luce Irigaray
Within this ash cloud I hide,
a hermit of my desires,
watching my delusions
absorb into this ground.
I am changed by her vision
and how I see she sees me.
Mumbling my stories like beads,
I sit here amid our destructions;
and then as a witch’s curse
for an ex-lover’s recompense,
I cast my lot like dice
tumbling over tattered rags
for a chance to become
something other than I am.
(January 13, 2016)
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