Nefertiti, and: Memoir Cleveland

Nefertiti

          For RWL

No one but I know the secret remedies,My friend, the love potions,The magic ingredients, the rich formulae

From a far distance the morning horizonIs all pale light and meringue clouds

Astronomy:You stir your breakfast coffee with one hand& prove a theorem with the other.

Bittersweet black goddess within me:A sense of sadness sweeps through our morningLike a cyclone. And even that melancholy songPlays for us on borrowed time.Whatever I now mean to youRepresents a series of profound encounters.

In my dream, I am doing seventy-fiveIn a fifty mph zone like some recklessSelf-satisfied diva acting out her emotions.

This bold black goddess within me:Keeps me alive and real,Exploring unknown territory—The taste of salt on the tip of my tongue,Grainy with language to seasonThe food of our memories.

Memoir Cleveland

I remember the silhouettesCut from black paper and coveredWith oval wooden frames and glass.

And I remember the man whose skilled handsSliced the paper until our profiles appeared.

Those silhouettes hung on our bedroom wall:One picture of my sister and one of me.

The sunlight burned bright after the storm.The sky gleamed with paper heaps of clouds.A jet stream divided the sky in two.

I awoke in the dark of early morningTo escape my dream of despair and pain.There is hope in recalling our childhood:A glimpse of first light, the world we loved, Leaning on the edge of paradise.

Now someone holds me close at sunrise.His beloved arms a circle of shelter around me.

Silhouettes: faded shadows on the wall.My heart sings like a bird.