Shift – A Wise Woman Writes

Churned in chronic cloud

Wafted away

To tenebrous fray

I’m wrecked

Face down

Among ash anointed dirt

Abysmally amassing

Illness

Sadness

Death

So lonely

Don’t tell me

About reasons

Or better places

In this house

Where words are weapons

And welts wail long after

The belts been cinched

This is chaos

And I’m lost

Waiting for a day

When I’ll write pretty things

Now sweet singing is stifled

But for mournful melancholy

Seeping from my chest

Compressed

By weight

Of souls

I’ve collected

Disconnected

Rejected

Infected

Ready

For disintegration

To begin

Go ahead

Shift

See the original here https://wisewoman2016.wordpress.com/2019/04/19/shift/?fbclid=IwAR3i8B0mzf1WuFZo4-lkI471LVTmc6fRW5XQPItZ9PhmoRBgoNXrC02wC1E

A giver

Ig@ daijanna (d.a.ij.a.n.n.a)


I have given your mouth a flutter,

To splutter and swallow

The numb atoms of lights.

I am a giver, a pacifier.

Poultice to your scarred eyelids.

I bloom inside you,

Your atlas of belly button.

A splinter of moon,

Beneath the crumble of your pillow

To talk and soothe,

I am a giver.

My green veins of lantern love,

Curtains on lips,

You on me , a gateway.

I give you moon and the sun.

Drizzling springs favorite song

On my flat body now.

To suffice what has leaked,

To make my words, a crisp song.

Christine E Ray’s Composition of a Woman, out now!

Front cover cropped

Composition of a Woman is currently available on Amazon.comAmazon.ca (Canada) and Amazon Europe ( Amazon.co.ukAmazon.deAmazon.fr,Amazon.it, and Amazon.es.)

It should be available of Book Depository and Barnes & Noble soon.

Signed copies of Composition of a Woman are also available on the Sudden Denouement Etsy site.

Watch this incredible video by Dena Daigle for taste of Christine E Ray’s gorgeous work and unmatched talent:

Mode of expressions

How do I express my anxiety?

Let me dip my nails and bite my skin,

with the horrors of iterative chills

like a wood spanking my cheekbones

Colour changing, chameleon tongue.

I am pulverized in this shade of trance,

with my thoughts eating my red eyelids.

Pich and pluck or pluck and pinch

Spit and run or run and spit

The ebb of heart rises like high tides in sigh.

I sit in this corner, burning now

along with the burning ink.