a feel for fhuil

i pray for blood
    and the blood will be given back to you    
and the blood will feed you  
   
   
   
   
   
four magpies;  
i will plant you under the cherry-tree  
next year the fruit will drip as if swollen with dew  
full maroon    
not like the bed-rest yellow  
i have seen    
   
and the blood will be given back to you  
   
let me then feed my appetite  
i approach bent  
crouched and peering as if to a wild animal  
clawed earth in my nails  
ground seeds in my teeth  
   
for spit;  
   
under the cloud-cover, come  
like a sister whispering secrets  
to me  
   
under this roof    
by the candle i have lit  
   
under this plate of bone  
like a breath of soft palate  
   
beside me like a mother  
your hands on my slippery heart  
   
   
and the blood will feed you