Sun and Life Painting By Frida Kahlo 1947
A third eye, an open ended
topsy-turvy petal blowing gap,
a vaginal bore, is what I’ve become.
The bloom's long gone. The petals sucked
dry with nectar long ago lipped.
Every orifice repeats its plea
for knowing I, centered as the core of id.
I am the warmth burnt from fields of Iris’
and bays of daylilies, I have
flowered, soon to die.
A third I laughs at the absurdity,
tendrils rooting on hair of silver gray,
aft holding to the ship of orbital she-
ray-rising to the celestial he.
First Published by Kind of a Hurricane Press 2013
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