Downturned my lavender
Face, turned toward the reflecting pool:
My serene nature pressed to
Blue-black water; Krishna makes
A funny flower-face at me.
My thousand petaled hands pray him.
(I’m fuckingly vulnerable) not to
Take me from my floating bed.
He pulls me up by the roots
& has me on his watery lap.
It’s oceanic for a minute,
But the way he everlastingly
Dandles keeps me fast
In muck I don’t understand.
As above, so below
Namaste’s my underwater name;
This pose leaves me open—
Vulva smiling, but taking on water,
While fingering minnows, tricky
Little phalluses, tickle
Me to death.
Serenity has its discomforts;
I can’t be a happy symbol—
I’m open-minded but getting bogged down.
I turn up my several-petaled face
Too late for the sun’s salutation.
Bottom’s up—I’m getting a sinking feeling,
Lotus-positioned and going under.