CALL ME BELOVED

Give me gentle hands, and no more desperate clutching
and grasping – born into this starving lonely body, sorry,
I say, letting go of your shoulder – just steadying myself –
pretty half-lie; dizzy, yes, bones begging hold me together

Seven years asleep, now, or is that even the right scale?
Mountains aren’t measured by the distance they move –
maybe my majesty is carved in stone – I am silence and
stillness, my arms stretch wide; I will carry it all. I must