Linda

For my friend Linda**, who has schizophrenia, and is the most holy person I can think of.

 

Ragged and elegant

Fragile as cigarette ash

You collect all the pieces

Before you open your door

 

Your skin like dust

Your lips swollen

Your mouth kissed by the gods

Just left through the open window

Lying under your bed

Holding their breath

Licking you from their palms

Waiting in your nest until I’m gone

 

Painted mermaids, four pears

Piece of a sacred tree

Some of the sea

Sister with the tired eyes

And you, with your long hair

Seeing the future

Born again as your mothers mother

With all her seed and blood and fear

Held like heaven in the air

You are holy, holy

And god is everywhere

 

**Name has been changed to protect privacy.

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