C. C. Rayne
GOOD BOY BE A GIRL ANGEL, GOOD GIRL BE A BOY ANGEL
I want to be simultaneous
sapphic-achillean
the soft line of my thighs
make love for all
I am, and light warps
round me and keeps moving
black hole of burnt belief
in the singularity
we are not alone in the universe
check your vision
you ain’t seeing double
everything comes back
to all of me
and he lay in the tomb for three days
crucifixion through silence.
dead.
quiet.
the questions lodged in my chest
aren’t allowed to be born,
buried beneath twin lumps of flesh.
the weight of me -
a boat’s wake, an indent in the dirt,
fog wiped from the mirror
only to creep back again –
leaves footprints in places I have yet to walk.
describe yourself, define yourself. let your words flood the world. but no
words come out.
we search for water, in the infinite pause.
the bucket, maudlin, goes jingle-jangle,
dangles on a rusty chain,
scrapes scars into the well-stone.
the arid desert holds its breath,
and waits for a me that is worth being.
a foretold silhouette, appearing
through summer haze.
but this might be prologue.
we have not hit the first act.
there is no sign of him yet, or
her yet, or
them yet -
- there is no sign of me yet –
it is not quite a hat trick, my resurrection. I forgot
I have to die first.
I am still in the stage of an early grave.
C. C. Rayne is an author of the weird, wonderful, and queer. C. C.'s works have been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and the Best Small Microfictions award. You can read more of C. C.'s poetry in places such as Heartlines Spec, Rough Cut Press, Eye To The Telescope, and Strange Horizons. You can read more of C. C.'s stories in places such as The Deeps, The Razor, HAD, JAKE, and Demons & Death Drops.