(This poem was inspired by the music of Natalie Merchant as I have always felt deeply connected to her lyrics.)

The Merchant

~jummyjeenz D.T.

The Merchant

She sells her wares

Weary from all her travels

Barrels of sorrows

Filled to the cusp

Split open with

Bows and arrows

 

Poised and reflective

A voice like mine

Spoken through different lips

 

Her breast

Her hips like mine

And a heart with many rips

 

Thickened ventricles

Propel

Warm pulsating streams

Calcified pebble scars

Still inviting in her dreams

 

Splintering repeatedly

A tree

With thickened bark

Still can stand

 

Her words like fingers

Slipped between cracks

Then decompressing

Within my hand