WHAT THE WATER GAVE ME (VI) Poem by Pascale Petit

This is how it is at the end -
me lying in my bath
while the waters break,
my skin glistening with amnion,
streaks of starlight.

And the waters keep on breaking
as I reverse out of my body.

My life dances on the silver surface
where cacti flower.

The ceiling opens
and I float up on fire.

Rain pierces me like thorns. I have a steam veil.

I sit bolt upright as the sun's rays embrace me.

Water, you are a lace wedding-gown
I slip over my head, giving birth to my death.

I wear you tightly as I burn -
don't make me come back.