Andrea Janda | littleREDelf
lap at pudding
and self-beauty
because sometimes,
hero-worship is healthy
and you can paint yourself
in new, glorious colours
like bruise-purple
and green
and concrete, statuesque
white.
make certain to be
an audible soul.
take great strides to be pure
and god-like,
exalt in your pleasure precision
use your fingers as eyes . . .
throw back your
silk-lined neck
with the laughter of nymphs.
. . . be sure to taste like tapioca.
~Andrea E. Janda
I looked upon his face through flame
and knew the shape, the curve of mouth
the bottomless eyes,
the puncture wound
left by his name,
but still the ache like silken hands beneath
a sleeve that only brushed my cheek
and how can I love
so deep
a boy who sings
as though to weep
and gather all
my heart in knots
of red red silk,
to wring it white and colorless
and sting my taste against
the other strangers I have never met.
~ Andrea E. Janda
You know yourself to be wise,
but it is a strange thing to resist:
to draw her up close,
to peel her back, a red skinned mango
the nectar at your mouth – stingy sweet.
fruit flesh untasted.
it is a strange thing to resist:
to be good and singular and granular
a quick drawing of sugar
but briefly . . .
like tea with honey.
He says, “You are awake.
to those waking, you are irresistable.
to those sleeping, you are beyond understanding.”
to be the Dream Brother,
or the Daughter of Stones.
seven over and over again . . .
knowing the joining would be
perhaps the missing voice
within the voice.
but they all come with songs
they hear you and join in
at all the right echoes.
“You are awake.”
We know where we belong
in those fleeting drams of time,
we take the hands, tighten down like locks
and know what it is to never forever BE.
To be tasty and know how you taste.
Turn those circles outward now,
ripples, vibrations in the waterglass
be sacred at every moment
throwing hands into a fire that understands.
Breathing into red connections —
tables are set for these strange gatherings,
might you . . .
shamelessly partake
of mangos and tea with honey.
Might you?
~ Andrea E. Janda