Category: Poetry

sound of chromosomes

No matter how hard one tries to expel nomenclature, the minor keys linger in all-night gas stations.

The Way Your Husband Walks Beside You

The doctor asks, were you blue as death

or infancy? Metal on flame

and bearing it or mad, embracing it,

I say. Without praise.

Ink-stone

you are a brush of calligraphy
sweeping designs across my belly
ink splattering circles and symbols
like a string of black lipped oyster pearls
strewn between my thighs

Forgiveness / Hurry, Love

Did you think your hand
could rearrange the world
with no consequence?
That I’m just some damn doll,
some pupa, sold
on not eating?

The Writer’s Wife

How must she have felt, their second child thrashing

inside of her—did she already agree with him

 

that her happiness lay in sleep? In dreaming

of lying in some other room, of a less fickle moon?

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