Willing in the Orisha

i. My body a full echo                I dawdle down to the creek Ask the god of blood for Abundance     continuity My offering      the syrup of pressed beans   & A 7-winged tulip ii. Later the rains swell the creek with coffee            the storm        a beckoned sheet The immortal herself reaping the earth          the tongues cut out of the cows iii. I walk in                       as the wash      attempts its valiant swallow A cafeteria aid             wipes the cotton from the counter Her bald eyes              aurora with       seeds You brought that           didn’t you? iv. My bottom lip a pink venom     My desire a valley with legs       His steady fingers toying the tea            I look up to a straight line and bury it    Can’t downsize what hithers me Every now & then a troubled thirst opens my mouth for a song that does not come I feel it all until a fixed voice decides No      but wait      you’re the water