Willing in the Orisha
i.
My body a full echo I dawdle down to the creek
Ask the god of blood for
Abundance continuity
My offering the syrup of pressed beans &
A 7-winged tulip
ii.
Later the rains swell the creek with coffee the storm a beckoned sheet
The immortal herself reaping the earth the tongues cut out of the cows
iii.
I walk in as the wash attempts its valiant swallow 
A cafeteria aid wipes the cotton from the counter
Her bald eyes aurora with seeds
You brought that didn’t you?
iv.
My bottom lip a pink venom My desire a valley with
legs His steady fingers toying the tea I look
up to a straight line and bury it Can’t downsize what
hithers me
Every now & then a troubled thirst
opens my mouth for a song that does not come
I feel it all
until a fixed voice decides
No but wait you’re the water