I have traveled from island to city, a stranger, an outsider.
I search for home, the promise of acceptance offered.
I would give my flesh to warm my soul in the star of your heart.
I had thought I loved, that family and fidelity were the center.
I was thrown to a sea of sharks and indifferent waves.
Tied to a stone of betrayal, I almost drowned of my own volition.
Isolation is a bitter fruit; its grimace keeps Others outside.
I eat the whole thing, core and stem, spitting the seeds into fallow soil.
A prison of trees protects me, even from my beloved.
Your faith will crack me open,
You will stroke your shaman’s fingers through the yolk,
With reverence, my heart will bleed for you,
like the sun into the sky, I want to come home.
©2017. I.O. Kirkwood All rights reserved