That rose, so pendulant and yellow, she glimpsed outside the kitchen window wasn’t from the slip her mother sent her with across the ocean,
Pursed lips suckle air, their profile tender against nightlight’s glow. Her body wiggles, unconscious still. A caterpillar stuck on its back, she cannot right
In this bar’s suspended lights, a halo hovers over you. The tattoo that you stitched to your neck – mythic spheres, a cluster of
Basically, I got as old as I could. // Now I am myself as I always was, / disguised as myself as I have