26
Three Poems by Lana Bella
DEAR SUKI: NUMBER FOUR
Dear Suki: Sensoji Temple, Japan, May 4th,
religion distorts the less cunning, conjures
fugues more absurd than war. This season of
drought brings white-tailed denizens to divvy
up relic rites and tea-cured alms to the gods;
with you hoisting the same steps searching
to extract divine tales in worship. Auric sun
spills copious on saddle matted floors, here,
fragile as the fluting on your chiffon robe, you
lay down veins of pale limbs and onyx hair to
the ebb and flow of Nam Myoho Renge Kyo
incantations. My veneer lends its body to the
orderly chaos; I am processioned by the licks
of deistic gentility, as if to reconcile my retreat
from prayers. Come closer, plea the molecules
mélange, scale my rungs and speak evils into
my affluence. I puzzle over new words for solace.
Strange syllables spill across my tongue of ore,
skirting the impiety between slick and hot until
even the idea of you is smoke dark and smooth.