"genesis" and more work by Crista Fusaro
genesis
would you
care to taste
(my) nectar—
come! and
take
communion
eat (me)
in a place
of worship
lather your
lips
with this
saccharine
fruit
I am
the new
garden of eden
this is
(my) genesis
where tongue
teases tongue
oh, do not
wait
for
medusa’s retaliation
to soak
your
fragile
fingers
in the
holy water
(of my being)
I am
the
river
styx
it is
true—
(I
Leave A
Most Bitter
Aftertaste)
but the
rapture
makes it
rewarding!
yes, yes—
the hymns
claim:
I am
the new
disease!
the plague
has returned
in the form
of me!
I will
bring
the end!
but
I am the
Beginning
I am
the new
tree of knowledge
it is
not
my fault
that
nectar sticks
to what
accepts it—
it is
not
my fault
that
you
need
to satiate
your
hunger
that those
fingers crave feeling
that
you need pleasing
that
when
I
say
the body of Me
you
say
Amen
carving of a chrysanthemum
blossoming.
a second clock clicks
ticks
down,
the hour of coming rapture
blood: boiling bubbling
cracks in stone
red rupture
(the mouth of metonymy)
in whose mouth is her name safe?
in whose name is she safe?
a pregnant river / a poisoned tint
heart crumbs dance,
pollen
and
ash
is that blush in her iris?
dinner will have to wait.
let the dust settle on the mantel.
heated hands
envious eyes
assemble warships
(as she will)
unsheathe dagger tied to thigh.
this is unbecoming
the burning of
Crista Fusaro (she/her) is a Tiohtià:ke/Montreal-based writer. She holds a BA (Hons) in English and Creative Writing from Concordia University and is currently completing her MA in English Literature at Concordia. She can be found returning to the words of others to birth her own. When not possessed by writing, she is speaking broken Greek to her grandmother