floating in that acrid pool of nothingness, 

a feather kissed the tip of my nose and whispered softly over my face.

in that moment, decided. 

i watch the village of women who surround me each day, 

awash with a soft awe at their mossy eyes and woolen hands. 

i link arms with the girl i love most on a late night walk, 

running from the boy who asked me to give apart of myself.

...

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when i see the girls who match my soft body,

when i see them wear the skirts, the tshirts, you know the ones.

well when i see them, i feel as though i must reach through to the other side

of the screen that seperates and give them a star shaped sticker. 

the stickers that, while they got their flowers, we coveted on our walls. 

it's awkwardly awkward trying to explain this to anothe...

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Stretch marks.

Silver ripples

on a pearl pond, he says.

I don't need him to love them, but

it helps.

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Kemah Bob

The chime-chirp glint in your talk

pep-drawling, through my grit-clogged Samsung speaker

like a wise blue hedgehog with salacious 

pips and chings of playground secrets

makes my covid swab a shade less eye-popping.

My cobbled, shapeless day seem masterful.

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