Lilith — First Mother, First Lover — you play
roles. Let my tongue find your soul and your toes

will curl deep in the woods. I still search, pray
and call on you. Sometimes I hear echoes

of your pleasure. Sometimes it’s just a cool
light in the green darkness. At the crossroads

your owl took my words. I still think it’s cruel
that you never came, though the complex codes

of your prayers confuse me at times. My grasp
of your Armenian tongue is, “shat vat,”

at best. Perhaps I’ve forgot my own role?
I’m built for faith and pleasure, not grief. Clasp

me to you, love. Spread yourself wide. Now squat
over my face. My tongue will find your soul.

NOTE:
In the Armenian language, the term, “very bad,” is “shat vat,” (շատ վատ).