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.