As I Melt Before God

In sunshine

brown flesh pours on grass,

nourishing soil

for the goldenrod

to resurrect in fall.

Bodily eruptions

make life’s faint  worries

dissolve to the ground.

Memories hoard lust

in separate mounds

as sin’s disfigured shadow

twists in torment

beneath the crust.

Coarse hair coils

between green blades

then mashes leisurely

into wet earth

as warm blood

shades white stones

and quivering muscles

lose themselves in the rhythm

of bones crackling to ash.

I am nothing. I

no longer can be found.

Shawn Regina Jones

reprinted from

“Womb Rain” (Finishing Line Press)