“Not despite, you say, because / You’ve been looking in the bathroom mirror / of our Santa Fe adobe house, beneath stained vigas / wearing your orange sports bra / and half-buckled blue jeans”
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“Girls sometimes roil / with fear they say / we’d do anything / to avoid a sting run shrieking / like our mothers but they / mishear buzzing for screams”
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“The meat turned clay when you left. / You kept the eyes, like dried berries, / and wet capillaries still stuck / to your fingers like raw yolk.”
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“Sick of buying tissues, she started to use / two silver buckets she’d found one day / in a neighbour’s abandoned shed, not knowing / they belonged to a magician (now dead).”
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I have seen these hues / bring the deepening of my blues. / Inside the rows and lines of my swallowed up and overwhelmed disappearing. / Inside the measures of solitude that swam through sorrow, seeking something unnamed.
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“…i was told that if it looked / like this / then / it was wrong / that i would need mending…”
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“They should be quaking.”
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“country sojourner, you gaze at me in rough / lips psychedelic rum, see i live in the old tales / of thick thighed psychostasia. weighting between / the self-actualized fat of my body and the / flickering of french-kissed soul. see i move”
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“the myth is, you and i tell each other we are / beautiful, precious, rare creatures, we are beholden / but we are scarred, i only have one gift: / surviving a horror movie with my song”
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“And I wonder why / the milk sours. Luck has passed / to other coffers.”
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“When I’d pictured you (yes, I pictured you / and me with you), it was dead-on: / you wear the expected eyes of exhaustion,”
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to be filled up / and begging for more / (when the womb is dying) / all expectant and graped / and waiting.
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My identity isn’t something I’m ashamed about. Being bisexual is part of who I am. And I’ve been comfortable with who I am for quite a while now, despite all the messy feelings and questioning as I came to know myself.
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“brick red lips— / always smoking a cigarette. / Her mirrored sunglasses reflect this wasteland / as the sun sets behind the mesas.”
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“There’s been requests for weddings in that room / but I’m not sure about hosting a party I can’t technically attend / and how would I explain the music playing every time I opened my mouth?”
Read More![[I’m billed as The Loneliest Woman]](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/56ccb957c2ea51fadfe314a6/1573782449211-Z8RFIRBWR2FGG51PVOLA/image-asset.jpeg)
“My story begins this way: I slept with a married man & his jealous witch-wife / that green-eyed bitch / spat her hex at me—”
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“I shift in my bones and become a new god.“
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“I am ghostly whisper / and werewolf’s curse, / a full moon rise seduction / and a candy apple burst.”
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