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The Starving Part

It aches, the starving part. Unthink the practised gossamer waif, curled inward into balanced bone. It is a swollen, jaundiced curse, broad and malignant, slipping sweetly through the vein to settle in addiction. The arrhythmia of nearly but not never quite, still too round thick, spilling everywhere. Feed it, the starving. Stuff it to bursting…

Adam’s Apple

To boys of blue: you must not cry,for yours is but to do and die;to march without the dire complexand folly of the weaker sex. The world that you were born intohas spaces carved out just for you,ripe with fruit fit for your pleasure—pick and plunder at your leisure. Power over crafted creatures,(fragile forms with…

A Sickness

It’s in the way we bloomed togetherand in the way that we fell apart:Wound tightly and scraping against the softest parts as we’d claw and lick and sting and soothe. All that’s left now are the ugliest parts. The looming shadow of two naked vultures circling each other in anticipation, plucking out feathers to keep…

The Dearly Beloved

It’s Christmas and we’re six years old, and I cannot say “I love you.” The evening has stretched into night and the air has grown warm with wine and conversation. My parents glance over and find me, head tucked into the crook of your knee as I struggle to fight the steady in-out of your…

Lady in the Blues

This town is a song about you. A melody of dead-end streets and off-step beats that my feet have all but memorized alongside all your tone-deaf lies. The quickstep notes of drawn-out nights and cymbal clang of booming fights set off by your much-too-short fuse and painting me in shades of blues. Lyrics lurk in worn-out…

for love of butterflies

In order to loveI havesurrendered the part of myselfwith the softest and most delicateskin. A simple touch will bruise andif the nails are sharp they cancomfortablytear it apart. Mine is a prayerwhispered quietly intomirrored hands. Yours isan explosivebursting with the potential toscatter me.

The Love Eaters

Dear Friend, when was it you began to fear solitude? To see the entry and exit of blood and breath, the coming and going of life and death as waste if performed in the absence of a lover’s face; From the start, were the spaces between our fingers spread apart to make us crave the…

Lamb to Slaughter

I set my heart between your teethto fulfill Delphic prophecy;slit my throat and slowly bledwhile chanting prayers in my head. Gouged out my offending eyesto strip off pretense and disguise,set them at your burning alter—these first sins of Adam’s daughter. When was it that I misspoke?What ancient rite did you invoketo carve me up as…

Single at 32.

Dear You, To begin, you are not actually single at 32, or at least, not yet. While you are indeed currently single, you are only 22, although that number is quickly creeping forward. Does this scare you? It shouldn’t. You still have many years before you breach 30 and tumble into a wretched existence. As…

Stranger, Stranger

In truth, it starts to ache at times— The wear and tear of all these years stripped and laid bare eventually. Anchored at first by steady hands, rough sand smoothed into fragile gems that stem and then flower beautifully. Was it then that we first learned to lie? Blinding words of trust and submission as…