Explore
The Bodyexpand_moreWhat if Eve was an Indian & Adam was never kneaded from the earth.
Instead, I touch: The powdered organ. The thief-shaped hole.
Children can be seen as worldly things, not as souls with broken mirrors.
Silence, a weapon of choice, hung between them, cut through the air.
If you are water my left hand is a horse thief my right hand is alder smoke.
Come live with me. We could plant acorns in each other’s mouths.
They met on the app in April, shortly after her twenty-ninth birthday.
You said cilím-xayqin, the very whites of my eyes you pluck out.
My father then got partials implanted, which were later punched out.
It was the season of storm delays, of . . . shame and ghosts on trains
Our spirits are as transparent as the gown my wife wears in bed.
Make haste, my love, I am redrawing the scale of escape.
She’d do anything once, to know what it was like.
It lay slumped where they’d dragged it, a fright of an animal.
Bodies, moths, destroyers. Fear like finding a bullet in a snowman.
I decide it’s as good a place as any to stop, pant & smell the roses—
He picked up the knife I had there, and said he’d kill me if ever I told.
A knife left by an untraced foot marks where to lay the body—fácil.
I am a pornography of small promises, the chugging gin of the universe.
I roll lactic bubbles under my face with rose quartz, fuck a pillow in sleep.
It is February in Ukraine. Juliana tells the reporter she just wants to live in her country.
May your wife remove her shirt and have an affair with a tornado.
Her body is no longer the source of pleasure but constant pain.
Let those shadows sift the spirits of their children from the silt.
My wife fell in love with a dancer. A woman. I came here to get away.
She sips the coffee and thinks about throwing herself off the balcony.
The doctor said your life will never be the same before she said hello.
I let him record me doing it all. I wanted to watch me be a monster.
I reach in, blind hand finds what I’ve already seen, only one front foot.
Whitman may just mean: it is pretty cold, but there’s always colder.
