02/28

crop tops & other secrets

i learned to eat 
on a stage of getting through.
cutting all the curtains in half.
slats of sunlight.
i try to take a nap but my heart
becomes a street lamp 
full of moths. all kinds of mothers
everyone has their shame 
stored in jars.
carrying them down to the river
to float them like shoes.
what i wouldn't give 
to be anyone else. spring 
is asking the important questions.
"when will i be 
green enough for you?"
carrying a spoon in my pocket
just in case. a landlord
thinking to himself, "i work so hard
for these mice." me, that's me.
i am mice. all the houses 
with for sale signs i join them
& put a for sale sign 
in my belly button. come & see
what the previous owner
has left for you. court yards
without any ivy. summer spitting
cherry seeds at the window.
no. that was a gun shot. no i think
it was just a firework. 
pot lucks without any luck.
i would try so hard to be
a woman. cut hourglasses 
into the walls & walked through them
just to find myself 
on the other side. i tried 
just as hard to be a men. 
punched holes in the drywall.
my knuckles are 
soldier helmets. i try to tell you
none of us are going to war
even though i know this isn't true.
i cut anything i can find
in half. scissoring panting
on the end table. 
you touch your hand 
to the small of my back.
all my hairs raise 
to attention.

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