rock candy diary
dear gravel in my soul. dear
pinnacle we climbed with tentacles.
dear mouth full of cave fish.
i want to tell you how i have been
finding myself purple
more than usual. how i have been
walking away from my life
carrying only a backpack
full of radium dishes.
glowing in the creases of the earth.
i ask the light where & how
i will survive. when i was a girl-boy child
we would go to the hardware store
to answer all our questions.
i followed my father down aisles
of bolts & screws. smell of cut wood
& rusting knuckles. sometimes
we would take my hands to the table saw
& make a colony of them. here are
all your pieces. dear rock candy
how we found you near check out.
a jar of your catacombs. dear sweet
& dear blue sounds. chewing
in the back seat on our way to try
& make a house. the drywall of
my father's heart. he primers
on his knees. i eat rocks. not candy
this time. dear broken window.
deer green bottles & brown bottles.
dear driveway. dear wild spearmint.
dear wanting more. oh how i wanted more.
how i tried to dream of a basement where
rock candy grew on the walls. where
my hand was in one piece.
where my father heard
the chick-a-dees in the walls
& kneeled to fish them out.