Prayer Before Bathing
My six children’s
thirty-six grandchildren’s
one thousand two hundred and ninety-six great-grandchildren
thank you
whose skin is more extensive
than all the sheets of paper in the world,
whose body is broader
than all the tombs in this world put together,
and whose smooth flesh has these moles,
marked like ancient script on birds’ eggs.
Thank you for the warm deluge,
for the warm stones,
for the milky clouds of steam
Medusa
When I said nothing happened
I lied to you.
It happens, it happens every day,
on bridges, in open spaces.
Because I yielded to love
I walk, for some an object of shame,
for others a mirror. Whoever looks at me
is turned to stone,
frozen.