stop panicking,
like you’ve just lost everything.
this is retribution,
say to them
(magic magic clap clap clap)

with your hands out

and he says
smile to show him
your canines.
I come over wearing
everything I own:
a pack that stalks
and stays together in lunge,
a freshly oil-stoned
suit of knives and
the bled-dry opaline
home that I nest in,
my cozy coronation robe:
my clanking vest that
announces my arrival to
your home.

 it is me
wreathed in
all my men’s

“Hecate” or “the red book” or “12.”

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