I shall learn to speak again
Hold my arms tightly and refuse
So my sister will never know how I fall out of myself
Becoming her mother, her father
Laying my hands over her skin like moss
Burring bins of berries
God, how I love her, she is a mother now
She’s rocking her baby now
Accepting my pain, with a cave, a mouth
An indoor belly holding its breath
Noon doorbells walking
Such truth enfolding our DNA
Stand by your stove
With little rain cups
Collect my steam
My selflessness
Send yourself a postcard
To whom it may concern
I am alive at night
Displaying something fertile
Something unafraid of these blinkedy lights
blackest of cats
savoring wishbones
superstitions in flu form
o’ how delightful this magic
more desirable than dirt
parting your hair to one side
wishing for better cigars
better cigars for one dime
for better men with better belts
but before each damn
before all the insipid moans
my mother was born
restricting the hips
notifying all asylums
I would soon be born
Zoe, this is for you. I will forever love you as a grandchild should.
-M
You, who saves the sag’d moths from yellowing
You, my properness
Narrowing my spine
Its complicated skin
Like a pure woman in labor
Nodding
Thinking
Agreeing with God
knowing i truly don’t want too
wondering if my head is still green
mother
yellow would be nice
sirens sound as everything reds down
watching the flutter of a little lie
sun spotting
my purple’d hands
my ten foot scarf
its cardiovascular tissue
its angular distance
grey forecasts all shows
the kisser the singer
this nude swimmer
writing in aquatic blues
