June 30, 2018
I said it all before
my lips keep strange hours
only pens know
when the bar is open
and the words flow.
In spite of myself
the Potential for art squeezes a cadmium red.
Crushed, I bleed out bright
like an accident
over hands that don't know they shaped me.
November 11, 2017
It’s not love that keeps a body but necessity.
By nature, their prestige and normal habits
cannot complete the task.
There is nothing to take with us.
Stones and trees are best left undisturbed
as much as we want them to become something else.
Everything exists quietly.
August 26, 2017
I still try to assess you with words,
placing stars amongst a black sky.
I am like you, predisposed to mold
all things into my image
to arrange a constellation
you begin and end here.
In the great darkness and stillness of night, you descend
and dwell upon my surface like a g...
July 30, 2017
I wish to speak with you
if my hands remember how to make a prayer.
Nature does not reflect you, really
but is what you dwell among
having returned to what you always preferred
and doesn’t confine you.
You never cared for fleshly clothes
and only wore the shape of a man for m...
July 27, 2017
as the arrow
and the cheek moves
they should have met
and I bleed
to show I live and bear fruit.
10,000 soldiers march with arrows that draw
and go in smooth
planting red flowers
I should have let them use me
grateful to have been made immortal across fields
for their mas...
July 5, 2017
Diminutive, scarred, and strangely formed
you closed, closed, closed every door to look at me
I lived past your thighs but
not your hungry mouth beyond
you left things in my cupboards that are not mine
as if by default, before closing them again
and crawled inside my womb
July 4, 2017
Charred earth roils and churns within me
so I crumbled my bones to ashes
and melted my skin like ore
I’ll dwell like you,
as shadow and mass,
with more intentionality
than all the witches and shamans before her;
with rosehips and lavender and
July 2, 2017
I stabbed myself too many times
in order to change my shape
and now its all leaked out
like a paper cup with too many holes in it.
Empty shapes can still be people.
The world drifts in and out of them.
All things are taken in,
thrust against canyons that do not echo
and pass b...
June 23, 2017
Cold unfeeling steel pressed against my cheek
that lays not horizontally
but forces me to stand upright
straightening my spine unnaturally.
A freak on a metal sheet
I move and carry myself
but cannot lay flat
so it claps against me as I walk
repulsed by the breasts and...
Don’t Go Home But Can’t Stay Here