damn genesis: shake it from the trees
why reach for the hand fully formed in the sea-foam
meet this rollicking sacrament
where it pours into our bones?
terrified of the lineages trapped
stainred berries
beneath our tongues.
still, we can wait no longer
to become, on purpose, and
despite ourselves. damn that home
which spat us out like gold-teeth,
crowns shining, roots biting
stubborn zephyrs feasting
on whatever sweet core of meaning
we can find
charred maps
feed the new earth. lord, let me be unled.
it was not tainted from the start
and it is not ending now
arctic waters teem with oil, and the locusts—
nonetheless. there is work to do. so tell me I am made of
clay. of star bile. stray chime of root, ragged breath
mid-phrase in that prayer to shatter
the rafters: damned, I will keep that faith, or
break my obsolete heart with trying
creature that I am: hands reaching.
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Brianna Cunliffe (she/they) is an environmental justice activist and storyteller. As a queer woman who grew up on a disintegrating coastline, her work explores fiercely loving the fragile places we call home. Recent work appears in Reckoning Magazine, Vagabond City, Lucent Dreaming, Storm Cellar, and Revolute, and they’re @BriannaCunliffe on Twitter.
A poem of jagged beauty, with images to startle – great work, Brianna!