the shredding

I have a new story
I now peel potatoes in high heels and leather over the kitchen sink their skins shredding in the shapes of wild winds and clouds, supersonic, Saturn, Jupiter, the moon

I now clean the toilet wearing long grey silken gloves with pea pearls sewn at the wrists and dotted upwards towards the insides of my elbows where pools of saffron gather,
and every time my fingers run towards my shoulders the gold disperses along the crevices of myself to drip to the ground where it stains, stains and stays

I now sing to my insides
a soothing melody of miracles that happen simultaneously one after another and the lyrics hum through my skin and out into the air where others listen and are happy to do so - sailors to sirens, mermaids to gods

in the morning night is gone
in the morning hear my song
in the morning smile with me
in the morning I am free

the lorikeet sitting on the branch in front of my window chirps and glows purplredgreen
and even after it stops breathing, its colours bleed into the soil to become part of this perfect palate

as

I now make my bed of linen
and lie in it

naked