Stem

I served the pomegranate queen
as husky doorkeeper
but never tasted what bursts
inside.
My way was the winding stem
until it flowered.
Radiance to the east
radiance to the west
radiance north and south
radiance to unborn stars
radiance to blackest loam
radiance through every shattered
window of my flesh
until all that remained of 'me'
was the fragrance
from the center of the rose
pervading the whole garden
without going anywhere.
Those who need a path
call this perfume
'Catastrophe.'
But those who fall in love
with falling itself
perish into the motherhood
of seeds.