To Make Breakfast After an Abortion
You cut a cabbage, notcarve an arm. Rememberthe cat lets you cradle himwhen you’re calm. Remember the sound ofbirds outside – grow wings.Feel the spring come likepromises to the wind, feelthe wind, how its freedomcaresses your face. Focus, the oil is shimmering. You’ve jumped in puddlesbigger than this so listen,you’re making breakfast. The thin edge…
Tokens for Teeth
His heart is a carny barker. His skin, a bullhorn gathering the men for miles. I am a circus of a woman. I light up. I smile. I let them slide their mouths over my bottleneck and the length of my lashes while he bellows. I love this man who kisses me greasy, wears stripes…
An Oil Lamp in All This Tinder
After I left my fiancé, I was a broken phone, no quarters. Bought a one-way ticket to Montana, a leap of faith, the airport, a collection of cowboys and children. When we found each other, Mike was a beard I pushed my face into before heading to Huson. The persimmon sun still had a little…
Indescribable
Like when a bottle of dish soap, spouts small bubbles. We found each other this way- insignificant, full of magic- and your smile is a hammock, your arms, a warm cup of tea, a stethoscope on my chest that floats a length of skin, a single silver plate lost on a stream red with poppies.
Mouths, a Bowl of Holy Water
Our love was a church. God, with us every Sunday. We searched for it the rest of the week. Our mouths, a bowl of holy water, swallowing whatever words sliced rigid, spat them out clean on the other end, sought out paradise in a pile of books. Maybe the man upstairs was just a suitcase,…
This Thin Sheet of Skull
I want to murder you and eat your brain, so you won’t write anymore, and I can have your words in my mouth. I can’t decide if I would sauté it in a cast iron skillet and finish it off in the oven, or slurp up the wiggles like a bowl of soft noodles. But…
Survive & Thrive 