September Poems

Sep 5th, 2013 | By | Category: Tiffany Chaney

tiffany chaney photoTiffany Chaney is an artist and writer residing in North Carolina, USA. She holds a Bachelor of Arts in creative writing from Salem College and is Founding Editor of Recto Verso Review, serving as Art Editor of Thrush Press. Her poetry collection Between Blue and Grey (2012) can be requested at any book retailer or purchased at

Assumptions Are Dangerous, Traveler
You petulant prick, preach my sins to save your own skin? I have thighs that crush empires, and you have been lucky to be embraced by them. Be prepared for a sacking because this Goddess-Queen is royally pissed. Your right is to not ravage my heart with your bull shit.

Some swine are not good for the consumption of the soul. Your silence is a petty pretense for your fear. Measure you fear against the shattered crack in the mirror of your visage, the one you smashed because you know it is a lie. Trace the fault lines, those ways of parting and the magma become obsidian, shining black lava cooled. I see the fossils of ashes, in cities and lands burned beneath a touch you were too afraid to give.

Claim not the lands of my heart, which you may not cut nor carve your maps upon. Bear me gifts and speak to me as the Goddess-Queen I am, for I do not reign over any body but my own. Take heed what you think you can do to me. Assumptions are dangerous, traveler.

Your lips
cradle of
your infantile
neck smoothe
with skullsĀ 
of the relented
blood red petals
stained sacred by
the dismemberment
the reassembly
of earthed bodies
seeding again.

Los CariƱos
it came to mind to call you the other day,
as I tried to remember how to speak the language.

Pero no hablo EspaƱol bien.
Dos. There were two of you.

If you are awake, please call me,
your mother texted me at 2 A.M.

And I had wondered if I were ready for this.
To be your Goddess-Parent.

It’s done, she says. The second
placenta passed while I shrieked
on the bathroom floor, she says.

Miscarriageā€”To miss carrying,
to pass into death the child as
you would pass it into life.

Los CariƱos, I didn’t realize
how much I already loved you.

And I had wondered if I were ready for this.
I can’t even speak English well enough, for this.

Los CariƱos: Father Sky and Mother Earth
have welcomed you and inside I die a little death.

Los CariƱos: Your Papa and your Mama
will live bright like candles for every year of your lives.

Los CariƱos,
no hablo EspaƱol bien.

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