9/1

peacock seed

i was small when i planted the iridescent boy
in the back of my throat & walked around
like a jar of jam. everything sweet
has been boiled by sun or by fire. in the fields
we would work for hours harvesting tomatos.
they are the shape a heart should be. roma, heirloom,
cherry. from the dirt, i collected feathers too.
they were palm branches. lay me down. a divine is coming 
in the form of hair. there is no other body like mine.
i flock & fallen & fallow. deer watch as we work
waiting to become skulls. boys like me are all teeth
& then none. we have & are harvested. make blue of our star. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.