My friend's poem

Rebirth

cicadas birth from the ground
moths from second rate cocoons
and I from earthenware painted and prettied with
stories of the great greek gods
patterned and lullabied with the delicious rot of time

and I have risen
from baked clay coffin
wearing the stories of old
like some temptress of athens
sculpted by masters

my spine a display of loveline
my lungs full of reds and blacks
paint pours out from my mouth
over my laughing tongue
and down my hungry lips to the
palette of my chest

I came from the womb of earth
waiting for the day
for the day of discovery
and translation
and understanding
and worth

and as you read my skin
stained with history
from the violent means of rebirth
may we both remember where I came from
once made by the hand of the master
canvas story for the great greek gods
patterned and lullabied with hardship
born of the delicious rot of time

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