bare faced.
finally.


scarlet blaze that starts when they
peel away.
an unreturned question
stop annihilating things
to remove one
part.but then I straighten up.
finally.
we watch the black night
burst into yellow dots
and I
lick your earlobes.
try your fingers on.
feel my back pressed
into yard, open
eye at you.

fall in.

you became red.
  I became an unwatched bull.
your flags,
my Venus.

I’ve got to chase
whatever sprints
first.

3

(Venus in Leo

Venus in 12th house)

took me on the grass
coaxing me with fireflies,
big sky you would show me.
  I licked your earlobes,
wafting. felt secure
denying you.

your chest pressed
hard against mine,
barbed.
there’s this place I am
trying to get to.
but i don’t say it.
just let the weight settle.
let the rush take form.

2.

I remove the rest of my top
and close my eyes deliberately
to show you the length
of each thorn.
wear my eyes like a hooked rose.
tongue pressed
against your chin,
my lips trace
your jaw       I am softer.
having been tempered
and forced close:
you know,
darling,
let my teeth hit your lip

I have never
become divine without first
becoming storm.

 been learning
performative emotion
to keep the ones I’m fettered
to warm, and to feel their
slippery manacles tease
the tops of my feet
like feathers as they pull
me back.
paint my lashes black


and they’re wet 
and
shaped like little
bolts.

1.

I’m obsessed with process
and transition;
the form it takes.

metamorphosis– freeze,
liquefy and
precipitate, or the moment
before– just to
reform without final
shape. stuck.
or testing permanence
with concrete.

after all that patience
and miles of crouch
through the city,
knees broken,
admiring chalked mortar and filling
the jacket lining
with lip gloss, your ardor
growing big and bright
pulling things towards you
like the moon; oh
to be suddenly seized
by your habits again.

your hand on my back.
it’s just one breath,
that’s all it takes.

“the men” 

the medium between
complacency in vengeance
or complacency
with photosynthesis
Is God.

“transition”

when I moved to Philly,
I developed a good working
relationship with every Whole Foods
in the area.
I wore noise cancelling
headphones and an olive green
bookbag.


I want to be remembered for the
ways I never starved,
you are only as
sick as your secrets.


no, I am only as sick
as my father,
but say it out
loud in self checkout.
with imprudence.
with temper.

and never tell them anything.

“the secrets”

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