Rebuke/ /Spell

I pull my heart out with teeth and claws, 
           leave it glimmering on the glass table: 

Begone! Palo santo, sagebrush, sweetgrass 
           ash in the shadows. Taste cornpollen, 

bitter medicine—the stomach-swirling 
           of forgetting. Cast it out! Memories skein 

beneath the silver surface—butterfly fish 
           that bite. Dash the mirror. The table, 

let a form fall through it. Eat 
           the shards. Fill up the walnut-sized gap 

in your chest where your heart once was. Yes, 
           you—staring into aquamarine and amethyst 

and praying for a miracle. Most terrible and hated 
           and beloved part of you: sever 

the gold chain like a string 
           of spit. Plant a new orchid, 

untouched by everything except the god 
           who is the sun, his body 

rolling in eternity. A newer moon will mesh 
           the blood inside of you.