Fictional Problems

8 Apr

there are endless possibilities

itching at my back of my hipbones,

crawling out between my ribs,

spilling through the gaps in my teeth.


it could be vomit, and bile,

or tears mixed with semen,

makeup and sweat,

happiness, sorrow, insanity.


slipping between the milliseconds

hearing you call me a goddess

and a whore in the same breath


demonic, tied up in the

scratching. sloughing off skin cells

unsure of what will

come up from beneath:


mermaids or harpies,

your terror, or my own.

Pressure Fractures

7 Apr

I miss holding them in my hands,

running with the inkblots

smudges, painting shadow-picture



all leather and ribbon and cracked

spines with wetted corners.


honesty is the only way out.

I am bleeding fire.


I can write about these things

as though they are true for me

when I have never been there


never had a house in the trees.


I am a maker,

I make water

I could make life.

There is a secret language

I want to share with you


all careful brushes and fingertips,

but without the physical.


you can speak it in the spaces

between words.


know it in the smell before

and after the rain, but never



Creation Myths

6 Apr

A plant will always reach

to what you have told it

what you made it believe, is the sun.


Heat lamps, vertical irrigation,

it knows nothing else. We cannot

help but desire, and you have

planted each one of us


Down the line, in repetition

growing from one another’s ashes,

bones. The gristle of DNA


and something else I have forgotten,

reaching to the sun

out an east-facing window.


5 Apr

You wear your sadness like a

cloak. careful crafted,

clever pockets

all stitched together, patchwork.


your mother would cry

at your handiwork.

Navigation Laws

9 Mar

They feel like laws.


Reams, of papers and protocols

lists, expectations

the social sort of punishments.


Struggling against the collapse of society,

all of our bodies tumbling together

into indistinguishability


A gelatinous membrane against

which I splay my hands and push

but know I cannot go so far as to break.


I am negotiated with,

held up by the ultimate law

I crafted to lay over your delegation


“I love you, I love you.”

Learning Hope

3 Mar

I want to speckle stars

on your lungs


to remind them:

there is no gravity in space.


Someday, we will get there.

and eons after, when I am gone

they will remind you what I have said.


“You were made for sieges,

my darling,


You will outlast this war.”

You will outlast

This war.

Smaller Eternities

19 Feb

I found a buried box.

In it, there were candies.


Candies, that tasted like flowers

sweet, like they used to smell.


You were telling me about

the end of of empires, talking


about living underground, unable to wait

for a call, but being able to feel

the Earth, rumble in your bones.


Knowing that there were dragons outside,

knowing, that our miracle was tasting flowers.

Growth Algorithms

17 Feb

They had lost their idea of sunlight

so it came up searching, twisting


Became iron resting on tongues

turning into reaching nerve-shocks

that spidered into limbs


connecting bone and memory to skin.


proving, it too could grow.


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 634 other followers