Just as water will flow through
a well-worn riverbed, even beyond and after death,
I go to that place of memory between our legs, holding
the sacred vessel with my lips, a holy mass we recite by rubbing,
by binding, by applying our Tantric perfumes
to the wound and by eating the unfolding body baked with sago,
the astral body weaving in and out of one another, grooves of mind deepening
and scattering, the way stolen jewels are left unclaimed on the ocean floor
George Cassidy Payne is a poet from Rochester, NY. His work has been included in such publications as the Hazmat Review, Moria Poetry Journal, Chronogram Journal, Ampersand Literary Review, The Angle at St. John Fisher College, and 3:16 Journal. George’s blogs, essays and letters have appeared in USA Today, The Wall Street Journal, The Atlantic, Havana Times, South China Morning Post, The Buffalo News, and more.
See all his poems on Tea House here.
