Terrie Mollohan and Andrew Warfield

Mother. It's time.
I've lain too long
in the belly of your bones.
I have become a cuttlefish.

I am
the rustle in cypress grove,
moonlight in the garden, the
first time.

the shadows the rattle
the ancient dance
the women with painted breasts
the owl's talon, buried deep in
the altar cloth
the wine the holy water
and the circle.

Prosperine's strange lament.
The voices of Job. And Revelation.
The Priest and the Bride,
and now I know
what a whore prays in secret.

I need your prayers,
Mother. Soft bone-food
I eat, I drink,
I suck them dry.

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The 2River View, 1_2 (Winter 1997)