i'm growing down feathers.
white wisp layers. a willow tree
wallows in me & tells me
to cut off all my hair before
i turn 25. this decade has
made good use of stirrups.
what if i skin myself? what if i
taxidermy my heart for a nice paper weight?
something needs to keep the angels
from getting away. not this time.
ball & chain. loose teeth.
spread me wide like a specimen.
i want to be further inspected for flaws.
writing a temperature dial
on your back, i ask you how warm
you are going to keep me
if i agree to letting you
in my bed? your butterfly mouth.
the bees are hard to kill. they're woozy
with their own death.
tuck me in like a silver dollar
or a secret. the windows fog
with wanting. the sauna is only
an illusion. there is no such thing
as snow. what kind of jacket
should i wear to the funeral?
have you ever noticed
some leaves bleed from their trees?
stigmata never convinced anyone
of god. by the time it is warm again
what kind of gentle human
will i be? let's get married
in the kindling. i just want
someone to harvest footprints with.
the bears are going to sleep.
i want to be like them.