Candice Louisa Daquin, Poem

I don’t know if there’s hope
When friend turns foe
I don’t know
Where in separation
Yoke and embryo
Glistening placenta gouache
The painter may
Render this potential life
Legacy of strife
In verdant whisker
I could have been born

Elsewhere or not
Chemistry. cellular change
Alchemists with tears as coat of arms
We consume tangerines
The smell of orange rind and cloves
Seasonal with moth holes
Moses climbs from his wicker man
Escaping the fire
And disbelieved share
Their bronze debacle
Lend me the mahogany deep of your voice
Bringing me back from kimono exile
Remember, I have no power
But the truth of nude vanquish
Attributed to low lamps, proffered incense
Summoning believers in thin Mackintosh bones
We are rubric
To gardens in the rain
Bird baths for those
Needful of absolution