The Woman with the Secret Name
When she wakes, I wake with her,
nothing so human as these lips
in the dark of the night shade,
nothing so careful as her curved fingers
on the back of my head
where nothing is held back
in the center of this skull anymore.
I say to her, tell me the secret
of your name, tell me how to pronounce
each syllable, each brush of friction
against wind, tell me how to speak
all over again. This language
not so different from one leaf detaching itself,
falling as if held in her open palm
until it turns completely into the ground
all over again. This way of opening
the mouth or closing the eyes
not so different than the coming
or going of light. But more like sound,
the ringing made of air through
the lungs or leaves or space
between us. And that, she says,
is how the secret names us, tells us
how the cloth of our stories
falls on each other there in the front
of our lives, but here,
along the spine, I hold you.
Here, we kiss.
Caryn Mirriam-Goldberg
working notes
When I compose poems, I try to feel the rhythm in my body, and see what words come to fill that rhythm, and at the same time, I lean into whatever needs to be said. Obviously, this poem is a love/lust poem from a woman to a woman, but it also – to me, at least – has to do with an open field of desire and connection. I first wrote this about a decade ago, and then revised it who-knows-how-many-times. I wanted to convey – even as someone who sure looks like a heterosexual woman – a particular angle of desire, one that has to do with possibilities among women.
about the author
Caryn Mirriam-Goldberg is the author of five books, including three collections of poetry – Lot's Wife (Woodley Memorial Press), Animals in the House (Woodley Memorial Press), and Reading the Body (Mammoth Press). Her poetry and prose have been published in over 50 literary journals and anthologies. She teaches at Goddard College, where she coordinates the Transformative Language Arts concentration; she also facilitates writing workshops for women living with cancer, low-income women in a housing authority, and other populations. Her website is writewhereyouare.org.
