it is so hard to switch 
between voices was l
milk or wine 
         or was I the tear
undulating 
                Ihave cried
mountains have torn
plates of liquid gold 
into prayer have 
bitten my flesh
with a jadeite 
tooth gifted 
to all of
our 
           gods
in equal measures: 
the torn out eye of 
a horse three rings
of a birch tree and 
two beating hearts 
yet 
I still cannot dream 
         open-chested like asongless bird 
         it is at nights
         that 
I was the heavens 
I was the treetops
I was the crescent 
I was the grounds
     where if not 
here who 
         if not me
to mourn the passing 
of silence the tongue
tied slices of ambers 
       where if not 
here who 
         if not me 
to hold back fountains
so that we can emulate 
the rising of a thousand                suns
the crashing of a comet 
the edges of a universe
folding itself into sheets 
of ice I forgot the words
forgot how to accept to
be crippled the peg leg 
of my father a knocking 
on wood only my father 
had no peg leg and not
one of us suffered more
than our fair share but 
what is fair if your home
has betrayed you a long 
time ago if rightfully all
you can ever be is guilt
or shame a molten lava 
crown making your hair
burn 
                   it is at night