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kittensmall kitten, milk-belly sad-kitten by Mercury-the-Queen
in your heart you hold a universe shattering,
beneath your paper skin
a trillion specks of hardened sand
fight to make the first cut, and the deepest,
your eyes are slanted like sunbeams
against his light;
you are too weak
to open yourself to him one more time:
a nail, a nail, not a hammer, kitten,
it's like the sadness that comes with a full stomach,
like the sadness inside a cardboard box,
it’s like you sprawled angry on the bathroom floor,
that’s the kind of sad, kitten, that you will
hold between your pointed teeth until
someone asks if you are hungry,
until someone asks you to spit the pain into a napkin
and to feast.
i know that we are real11:00 am.i know that we are real by Mercury-the-Queen
this love is real in the way that i
pull flowers from their roots
to offer you up the only beauty
that i can hold between my hands.
in the days to come we will pity them
their bending spines, toss them, wilted,
in the trash.
this is real.
i sow my seeds of anger
in the soft swell of my breast
instead of planting them behind your eyes.
you sleep gently. i think
of runways and small windows.
this. is. real.
i do not leave,
not when my body’s restlessness
stops my heart,
not when i crave the fingers
of another country
between my ribs.
i put water on for coffee;
there will be no tarmac escape plan,
i wake you with kisses,
feed you cereal, coffee,
run my fingertips over the world of your body.
in a moment you are
the sun and the sky,
you are the journey that i crave;
my feet belong to the earth today.
butterfly cousini.butterfly cousin by Mercury-the-Queen
you tongue the rim of a bottle
like a cunt-hungry boy,
you are stumbling from room to room
toppling vases bursting like ripe figs,
waltzing yourself to bed with a knife as a partner
the walls scream
“remember how it ached,
his cock in your hand and his
tongue down your throat”
you fall asleep rocking red, stinging breasts
between your shoulderblades.
if you didn’t want him to make you touch it
then you should have spoken louder, moth-girl,
faded into the woodwork
to linger in drawers, to feed on others’ clothes
not gulp down paper and spit up
and if you wanted to stay beautiful
you should have harvested butterflies inside your
you know that you will not have peace
when your thighs are close enough
to kiss each other good morning.
moth-girl, butterfly cousin,
they will always love you a little less
than you love them;
you will be caught reaching just as they
are pulling back their hands.
nostalgiathe hills were my friends;nostalgia by Mercury-the-Queen
i loved them barefoot
because they breathed beneath my feet and
their heartbeat echoed in my bones,
i raced across the fields that welcomed me home
with swaying stalks as wild as i was-
i was a wolf, a fox,
i was as untamed as the forest,
and as long as i had those hills beneath my feet,
i was free.
the rivers called me by name.
i undressed on their banks and the current lured me in,
the drag of the water pulling the heat of running from my
tired muscles, wanting to tame the wild in my heart.
i swam against that tugging current
just to fight something until i couldn't struggle anymore.
when i gave up i let it carry me, naked and breathless,
when night fell
the crickets played for me, their songs passionate.
i twirled in the moonlight
while the bullfrogs lamented the death of the day,
i spun in circles beneath the face of the moon
and the stars winked down as if i was their child.
lightning bugs showed me how to find the music in the air, an
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tiger's clawi still have fever dreams;tiger's claw by hypnicjerks
EXIT signs lit loudly, red blaring
my hot wired body heavy,
my limbs swollen
the things my mother never told me
i found in the mouths of strangers,
fat & less fabricated
i feel safe
in the seediest of gardens,
grasping at roots in foreign beds;
never meant to soil
on blood soaked sands,
always smearing the mud
from my glasses,
each time hoping
either i cough or i don't
both fearing & knowing
crawling my skull,
portmanteaued & whining -
every wound i ever had
scored only from an illusionary paw
ElsewhereNights like these I stay awake watching glass shardsElsewhere by Concora
shine in heaven-light, and my mother says that I should go, Elsewhere.
Rain doesn't stop for the little losts—underwater at one o'clock;
still the streetlights blaze like midnight suns, and whale song drifts
past parked cars.
Nights like these I am waterlogged, wandering, and I don't find
Atlantis just a sofa downtown where the whale lovesongs are raindrop-borne,
slipping through the window and dripping onto hands. I remind myself I am
only alone, though missing—the weight of my cat on my feet and my
sister's soft sleeping.
an atheist's prayerdear god,an atheist's prayer by moondrums
i planted no tulips in autumn
and no tulips came in spring.
how silly of me, then
to mourn the empty garden,
to long for fields of amsterdam,
to kneel at night in cold dirt,
i’ve learned there is
a certain ache in lacking
a thing never had, that small itch
whose relief is two seasons past –
so god, if you can hear me,
know that i am homesick
whose name, like yours, i know
but whose flowers i cannot see.
CaliforniaMy father was San Francisco and my mother, the Pacific;California by Kittify
at five I was in love with nine-lane highways, the scent of
eucalyptus pressed between my fingers, yellow parchment
hills crumpled up under the eye of the sun. If I had a sunset
to myself I would curl up on a park bench like the hippies do,
and eavesdrop on the sea lions’ bedtime conversations.
Alcatraz never quite unbarred me and yet I have found
freedom in hills steep as my shoulders; I know that I am
beautiful even in the rain because I have kissed the smoke
of Berkeley and tasted her on my teeth. I was born to
dangle my legs over Golden Gate Bridge and of course,
of course I would jump – not to fall, but to fly.
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