----------------------
(poems from 1989 to 1994
with typos left uncorrected
-- of course!)

by Valentina Kaquatosh

This is my Trophy (November 1989)

this is my everlasting
perfumed paper trophy
the words melt me into mush
candy licks beseech
finding the softest meat
reaching into skin
circular touches
indescribable sweat
two bodies meet
sometimes move
at one with the wet

----------------------

Breaking Petals (April 1990)

petals into water
petals into earth
petals into fire
petals into air...

with a voice of breaking petals
I sing into an ocean
I sing you into my place
I want us to fly into this water
I want us to drown into ourselves

and live out a happy death

----------------------

Throughout the Insides (1990)

This Thing
curls up on my tongue
so hard and so young
tingles and sparks me
content in those dark parts of me
whispers back into you
melts the ice the wind in your voice
brushes up to breasts just enough
to weep at and touch
I tease back with the sound
the sound of your name teasing me
in echoes throughout the insides
throughout the insides inside out
and growing, growing warm red wet
becoming a flower opening
----------------------

The Last Conversation We Had (September 1991)

"I cannot have It," she said

she did not spare to spit
this back into his face
the look was enough
it told her she was suddenly right


they parted bodies
but not before he stuck
his hand into her thoughts


"Shall I be saved by love from you?"


after the separation
she desired
what she had thought
had been given up


troubled in his con-science
his doubt battled reason
she had forgotten what passed
and replaced it with a dream


answering his absence
she cut back with
"May I rot within your mouth"

it was then that she had his permission
to use him as a weapon
against herself

one last thought she breathed:
"If only to be with you is all I want"

in the afternoon he sent for her again
her body rose out of memory
she prepared for further treason
this time amazing more than herself
she stood there before all the gasps

"Dont' be afraid of me," he said
but he didn't believe in her
that woman who tempted
a lack of affection within him

"make my confessors fear you in me
make others love you for kissing me"

she shook her face
everything a shadow
the dark was warm
but it was hollow

"I know not why I came for you," said she
"when it is you who should come to me"

he changed her name to sorrow
but when he called her
it sounded like pity

one last thing
leads to another last thing
he had to say:
"When I leave, I beg you to collect your tears,
save them in a vial, and send them to me
for a trophy..."

"But this," she points to her breast,
"This shall never be yours"
and with that
she hoped to finish him

she thought herself strong
when he was gone
he claimed they were never over
but --

he bad her "Go forth into the world
and bring me back a report..."
and she did because she could
and she wanted no more of it
and she knew that shen she wept
she only wept over herself

she kept the vial
as a sounvenier
----------------------

A Soundless "I'm Sorry" (1991)

talks to myself
places pictures of glass
wears out my reflection
and the wounds
I lick and cast

and wish for once
I could make feelings felt
once touched
my skin
will speak it to you
caught between things
threaded into serene seams

in rumors of fingers
rhymed in rings
perhaps this will melt
glass back into sand
tie it up in strings
and wear you like a belt

slithering motionless
thinking in screams

your eyes
spoundless with
"I'm sorry..."
----------------------

You Get Used to It (1992)

you get used to it
he said
being alone
you get used to it
but I could used to
being together
if only
with him
alone
----------------------

The Crush (1993)

It
comes calling
remembering
hows whys wonderings "if"
can't stand what my body tells me
when I see it in mind
the voice that speaks what
I want to hear and feel
each syallble coughing through me
trying to remain still
caught within this self
in my own longing lingering
tips me apart like glass
whispering screaming
will you -- will I -- won't they
?

waiting for the slam

an old friend holds me with a razor
we meet and slit at each other
with our razor flesh

splinter glitter sparkles of pain

feel it coming rushing blowing breathing
feel it now -- watch it break
feel it coming now -- feeling it come
think thick flesh heat
murmurs mutter out loud
telling me how I could fall
fall without falling
just once
if I just look over the edge
let my fingers sweat and slip on the railing
just once
and slice into the slip
this blade caught at my throat
the scissor blades rubbing in my lungs
will it cut and catch and crush me
hold me up only to hit and bruise me?

it
hurts

always promises something
like I'll be there --
whatever wherever you want
yes
I like to think it wants me
as much as I want it

but then I do my orgami impression
folding my flesh open
spreading myself open
smiling and swollen
bright and brillant
fresh and red
----------------------

More to be collected later!

 

 

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