Personal archaeology

10 pm and should be working
on my first feature article
ever for national magazine,
looming due...
[that on top of film delivery,
starting business,
day job...
god am busy though
not complaining]

but:
i've been bugged by this recurring image
of past boyfriends as
geological layers
strata and substrata
according to assigned significance.

want to blog this with pictures
of each of their hands
no time for that though
just for the layers and their detritus.

layer G is the lowest-
yields first fragments of love
and healthy families
how they work
and can be,
full of generosity
and reciprocity.
a foundation for how i know
mine can someday be.
also contains the broken shards of
first heartbreak.
colour is bleached blonde
and dark brown.

[layer C, just below it, is only a green-eyed sliver
of muscle and dust
well placed
precious
fine
and as light
and insubstantial
as sixteen.]

layer J (above G)
is grey
and gold
and full of creativity
food
wine
jazz
dub
pot
forests
adventure
warm water
and incense.
also contains bits and pieces of
wasted time and effort
depression [his]
and cut cords.

layer C is the black of lust and
danger.
every girl should have one and
move on
fast as possible.

layer K
is all about abundance
and lack
you can see the
fat seasons
and dry droughts in this one.
from this layer i have scraped
the tiny
gold nuggets
and tucked them into my bosom
where they belong.
gold is mine now
i am my own gold.
this layer remains the dark of black soil
untilled.

the little intervening layers are fun
but narrow
red soil of joy
orange soil of play
on a hot afternoon
weird soils you basically forget
except for that weird tattoo
or irish accent.

ok enough of this self indulgence
had to do it though.

nice to be where i am now, i must say.
on the surface, with a companion
who is not soil at all
more like sunlight.