CARRIE LORIG & RUSS WOODS
ROOTS WERE IN OUR BODIES
we woke up and found roots
growing in us up from the places
we sleep. roots with smooth
darkness hair that spill cold
blue lava to us stomachs.
the roots split us in half ask
us on dates we said yes
intestines in us hands.
the roots teach to brush us
little meats off the hoof.
the roots gutter sea glass salt
wounds to our twists to face
them, stretching our fruit and blood
slurs where our fruit and blood
slurs would be if they weren’t dead.
crying never never keep us here
the roots cover wounds
the roots made and become
new stitches that don’t let go
our bodies heal to them
feeling soft under fiery with
creating. hey you roots
you saw us then naked with
our parts all in each other
like sticks and sorry.
ROOTS WERE WET GLASS
the roots pulled the door skin
off the key. the roots could
not brush away your forehead.
using a root, i sent you the most
forgiving dance report of a mouth
in children, a mouth tied to strings
that come attached to ceiling fans
and sinew. don’t worry don’t worry
there there there there i am giving
you these old things i found they are
for you and blowing. don’t ever shut
said the roots to the mouths wrapping
around them. your teeth are wet
and they are golden and they blow
what looks like glass into old seeds
from wind that never shuts. glass
shooting shoots always look so
ready for forgiveness and they dance
so hard on the ground that it pops.
i can put my hands here here here
on your ears that are always soft
enough to be the ground when it
happens. will you? will you please
hold my eyes once they are blue
with glass and tracing the sleep
the roots take home with them?
yes you said but never would you
shake from all of this soldier falling
for thunder. celery eyelids cooling
over bright burn victim reeds and
color coral gives us more of the
always buildings. the roots grew up
in the always buildings. with sisters
and kitchens to find bottles in. the
roots were solid and armless or
arms themselves of another thing.
we were all so quiet.