Fertility Amas

Tue, 08/15/2017 - 15:59 -- Minelle

A flowering brush silently drips and perspires under the regulation of the dawn.

Bees spawn amongst the first lit blooms, humoring the early bird.

Invisible feelers nestle into the newly warmed flowers reaching for its core.

For inside - is life, death, the temptations and tribulations that follow.

Inert deep within. Unreachable to any bouncing echo or spindle.


A chap crosses its path. Urge ensues him. Wanderlust for the internal.

Sticking the amas with a moderate knife his length plunges into the verdancy.

His surprise the vines take to his blade keenly pulling his arm to the nettles.

The boys chest presses against the arched spines. Taught skin breaks tension.

Blood pills.

As twilight begins to flood the lands depressions a cadets face flocked amber is seen lack-jaw in the fluorescent brush. Waxen moths will lap up the pollen before he bloats in a moons time

One day she won’t do his. We tell the future because we see the past.


A daughter to dutiful-s conceived with her strangers in mind. Neighbors to them.

Thirteen wise women are honored upon her entrance.

A plate to set their individual placement. Solid gold.

The light reflecting its facets- warm twelve faces. One is in shadow. Green shadow, sinking into the impressions of her cheeks, the front of her brow

It was thought for a moment.

If only the nursing mother did not request the luxury of a plate so august for her morning meal.

That she did not demand the radiance of its glow regardless of whom is was reserved.

A cause which effected means for an amas of regret. Her child would be twenty- five times.

For each- one would pass and wish to enter.

For each- would plunge into the interest of the senses in hopes the quintessence of their inflections are answered.

It is widely known what is inside the briar rose: A damsel alone, dormant in its core, stagnant in her surroundings. Life, death, in its many factions.

Temptations and the tribulations that follow.


Pricked at fifteen. As above so below.

Placed her in such a state she lay on her mattress and she is bound. Within her-self and through. Vines shoot and enlarge in continuous growth from her supple lack law- hooked thorns, double helix twist from her lip. Barbed leaves unfurl against the void of a new moon. Thirteen flies frozen on her abalone cheek. Each individual ocular facet sees the future so the past may be shed.


Fertility amas .Child- within the marrow. She will grant entrance when she's ready and only then.

In the meantime, under the declining refrigeration of the dawn, let out for her against the thickets.

Blood pills.

Crimson waxes the vines sporadically and methodically.


This poem is about: 
My community
Our world
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