By Gala
Date: 26 February 2001
Questioning The Celestial
I dab perfume on 14 points
not to thrill your senses,
but to awaken my own.
I lay the cards for a 9 card draw,
and they speak their own language.
You have questions
but they taste like doubt
and I hear "what if..."
like a cackled incantation
that makes the small hairs dance
on the back of my head.
Am I goddess to you, or witch?
And I whisper to myself the trick
of holding close, without holding too tight,
warn myself against too many i love yous
and wonder what it is I can possibly do
to make you feel me as real,
If after white light, amber glaze
love, life, laughter,lust and tears
you could possibly wonder
if I will just walk from you
without a backward glance.
You say that perhaps you are too much---
but is not the other half of that question
that perhaps I will not be enough?
I will brew tea with loose leaves,
and look for your face
in the bottom of the cup,
and perhaps find your answers there too.
For now I will pull the shawl
tightly around my shoulders
and pretend that I am much wiser a gypsy
than my heart knows me to be.
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