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Valiant afterthoughts
strewn on the battlefield of What should have been My body spilt in two The stillness of a river between me And who I thought I’d be
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pelvic shattering
the wounds of millennia orbiting the tinniest nucleus of why? A shadow
whispers from behind my retina a sermon forced upon me like a cloud of frankincense ceremoniously mangled into choking prayer Tapped on my angelic shoulder I wait for the psalm I memorized before words had meaning a frozen intake of air she says: you are not enough. |
AuthorQueer. he/him. Good witch. Archives
October 2022
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