I took my, Clothes off
From the Hooks on your Body
And I let them fall to the floor
A Whole bunch of them 

And I fell on top of them and into 
The middle of them 
And got lost in the depths 
Of their Folds 

And I cried and I cried and I cried 
And I wrapped them all around me
And I held them in my arms
In my open, empty arms

And I hugged them tight 
And I wept 
And I wept and I wept
And I Baptised them

In Fire and Holy Water
And in Tears
And I cried and I cried and I cried 
As I Held them in my open, empty, bruised and bleeding arms

My Ink Blue Pastel Blue
Teal shaded Powder Blue
Smoky hued Peacock Blue
Baby Blue tragedy Clothes

That were mine to begin with 
From time immemorial 
And I had given them away
I had given you away
Though You were mine to begin with

And I had placed You on the hooks of Someone else’s Naked Body
And He carried You for me
And She carried You well

And They all fell,
Mirror after Mirror 
breaking,
Spell after Spell 

And I’m sad
But I’m mine now
And I cry and I cry and I cry
And I weep 

As I baptise myself in Salt Water 
And Fire, and Tears
And Holy Water from Persephone’s springs in the Underworld 

And I hold my clothes all over me 
And I wimper,
I moan, 
And I weep. 

Somewhere in the Folds
New life from Death 
Is
Bursting at the seams.  

.

.

.