Heaven may have its diamonds but the loam is yours alone, ruby rhizome. Rain a cold borscht. Crimson seeping, sweet is your revenge, stigmata
1 In third grade, we dissected a cow’s eyeball. The stink of chemicals: a graduation from the pink plastic stethoscope. I slit the loose,
for Dayna Dead girls on the news, dead girls in print, dead girls on abandoned roads no one ever thinks to drive down, haunting