Soon. I fold the soles of my feet
into the velvet, perfumed soil, to pretend
like I am resting. Something in the dirt
recognizes the blood in my bones, bright
as teeth, and tugs. Like calls to like. I wonder
what I will come back as first, the chicken, or the egg.
Light seeps through the cracks. I have to remind
myself to breathe.
the world’s eyes must have first beheld kindness. it was the first thing to move across the hot, emerald-dark mouth of the earth,...
after Frank O’Hara / after Roger Reeves / after Ocean Vuong You’ll be grateful for the way the holly leaves tore at your skin with sweet...
I’ve never gone a summer without seeing you. Burrowing out of the skirts of the earth to peep through sidewalk cracks, splintered mud,...
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