Whiteness The milk rising in the weigh Jars every morning and every evening Of my life And years and years before I was born like bone Melted down Or poured porcelain A mystery how they made it Out of the dark grass Maybe the greatest mystery The whiteness shining in darkness The darkness comprehending it not Milk money bought the bed I slept in the clothes I wore The books I knelt over Evenings by lamplight That was powered by milk Money We lived off of whiteness And I believed it Was holy How could I not Warm as it was fresh From the maternal body But growing colder Colder as it rose in those weigh jars The thing about any treasure is It’s so heavy
Beautiful