Sanctified Dust
I don't even know what masturbation is but I know I've done it the sin next to the sin next to murder when I spray semen Christ sprays blood his pain enables my pleasure do I feel guilty? deeply like water into wine this contract turns
Being Her
a rattle in the mind or is it my body? I can’t tell who is speaking the voices are all familiar but they layer on each other like a drum machine random notes incomprehensible melodies they speak in fragments and yet, somehow have more power than full complete novels
Nightmind
I trace back down the paths I’ve taken regretting the turns I should have made knowledge known afterwards rattles in my head useless treasure like keys found in ashes from a burned-down house
Love Unwoven
we are trying to separate why do you grasp so tightly? I offer you all the possessions including physical custody why do you insist on taking my identity you've never loved me oh, you've said the words done the deed dropped tears in confession but not
Nightmind
tick tock at 3 am I awake alarm set for 7 I study the patterns of my closed eyelids colors without names shapes without edges at 4 I get a drink I try my right side my back and my left I stretch my legs straight curl them to my
Nightmind
I'm new to the dry herb green sparkle flower here is what I notice while fermented sugars have one song the flower is a tailored suit or should I say a wardrobe full I've tried on a few one fit like sunny clouds the other a
Love Unwoven
when you look at me what do you see? are you seeing me now or projecting who you want me to be? do you bring up old pictures and adorn them with longing? saying that's the you capturing me in flatness we give more grace to an oak
Being Her
not me but attached to me part of me but not me some say it defines me If it’s here I’ll at least keep it tucked
Being Her
I did my eyes put on lipstick curled my hair slipped into my black dress patterned with pink and green mid-summer branches beauty layered on beauty have I done it? I check the mirror the man in my head laughs snickers pounding he yells YOU LOOK RIDICULOUS! voices a procession
Being Her
I was a child, I was home my sister and her friends playing made up things more real than reality you can hold a book you cannot hold a word crawling under the large pine tree we entered our house our school room our little shop goofing off for hours
Being Her
a gluey shadow slowly hugs me tightly wrapping arms around my head twisting fingers down my ears echoing a haunting lullaby words sucking on my soul eyes dribble wet from a wrung-out mind
The Edge of Circles
we gave each other a gift today my cisgender friend and I despite my struggle to stand fully in my womanhood something in me helped her find her own knowing I gave her that she gave it back my womanhood