little party

by Sarah Darwiche

I’m saying
   I’m imagining my body in the
         Riverbed, grime and tresses
All around.

A little party. I’m saying
                   a little party. I’m saying
         bring the parts that haven’t been packed with hard earth
                   for a while, hard pack and hard pack and
                                             hard pack. red berries running down our throats
                                                                                                                                 and
         rushing in moonlight, a stream of maroon punches.
                                      I’m saying
                          shut up.
        the part where I crawl in front of the crowd on the riverbed,
                               choke on some dirt in the mouth.
                                                        shut up,
                                                                   I know.    
                 I’m getting there.
******
         Here it is – you, not you. a little moonlight falling
Over
         the lake.
the early dawn turning,
               mouthing itself
         into
                  the dark.

one punch to the ground
                                       two          three.

this is the funeral scene -- the fur shadows of
            my people, my people, my people,
                        building their stands into the river and letting
    their stands rip the sludge down, slow, all roaming
                         wooden
                                       hands.

  look at them,
            look at them and all the bodies 
                          
                                         they’ve got.

             I’ve got the body where
The dark tree has
   rings inside it eating closer and closer as
                                                                           its heart,
and it asks for a drink,
               some hands
                                and
                        
  a kiss.

******* 
     here we are again. at the scene. It takes
Itself so seriously.
sorry, mom. the
              snuffed dark-ache
    done by the headlights.
and the light picking its opened body
                                                 through the leaves –
All this self, coming to hang
         on to the skin.
****

    and tonight we’re doing
                                  dirt surgery,
          and my body’s dancing on the riverbed,
    and my body’s lying in the riverbed,
and I’m saying
              all the couples on the trains
                        are in love. a little craze,
                             
                                                     a little froth.
    
           
           a line in the cement, that I want.
            tracing and re-tracing its loss.
            it keeps pushing its forehead in place. it has a grip on its hands

 

             you, that I want.    
 
–  a real wild, wild night. 

          and it’s about to be the part where
I want to say you’re beautiful

                   My feet kissing my teeth, my feet
                       kissing my mouth, my body throwing fits
                            on both sides
                                              of the dirt,
                        all the pummeling in the beat.

                                              it’s about to be
      the part where my heart waits for you
                  to want me with
                                     still hands, again .

 The horse thrumming out to
                                     the dark, flat night –
        and my hands killing the horse.

******

Once,
           something lovely in the bones.
                                                                    and
       in the light dragging in through the window,
                  and in my body in there.
.

   my mouth trying to eat and
                eat out at the dirt,
Up and out of the crash.

 

listening – to the
                 scraped and lost loves, to twirls
        thrown all around.
                                                   
                                               still, to the sound of teeth, breaking.
*****

    a prayer on the knees, and
you still won’t play. i’m saying a party
                    and some dirt in my mouth,
         your tongue filling up
more and more of my mouth, and it’s tired.
                                                             so             tired.
    
                you’re saying your body on the
           other side of the lake. your body poured out
                              on the other side and swirled,
                                                                      broken sheen.
                 your body
                                  a body, calm.         
********

look at me
     say desperate. say
                    wild with it.

throw my body out and
                 out to the lake, to the final peace. say
                                         Fuck you, I got there.
                                                                   I know.
say a little party with all my mouth, bright
                Angry pop swallowing the dark bob in the horizon.
                              there’s no sound and there’s no dancing.
      the crush.

there’s
the night in my body, and
      my body
                in the riverbed.

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