the heart has turned to water;
—water, where the heart has split
like a river carving the stone, the
river of pain turned
to mercy, turned
water in place of heart;
a roar unlike niagara, the euphrates;
a river like a blind eye shedding rivers of
to wake up, mouth parched
like a desert, dreaming thirst for what was,
what might have been; when the water
is for healing, not drinking;
the waters of love and pity,
are the slaked dreams of the father.
dreams come true. the splintered
ones are His business.
like a snake eating its tail,
there is only healing and healing.
what was wanted in the first place,
beyond reach, forever.
to go home, to
pluck the apple
of desire—a name, a place,
one death and the healing is done.
flowing through the cracks of my heart
--Pier Giorgio Di Cicco
From The Dark Time of Angels
Mansfield Press 2003