I’d soften my body,
mind, and behavior
to melt into you.
I’ll comb out the knots
to let down my hair
from this tower room,
then blossom
as you climb the length to me.
I want to be your soft girl,
perfumed pillow,
secret heart lover.
I want you to be my only man,
sacred space,
sun and moon lover.
Carve your mark
into my bones
with your antlers to set me free.
Everything I scrawl
across the page is a soundtrack
bass bumping in my head.
I wish I could sketch
each note onto your chest
for safekeeping.
Our song plays behind my eyelids
it’s the flipping of comic book
pages in the hands of a child.
This is the chorus.
I’ll passive aggressively hint
this poem is about you.
You and Me.
Repeat times three.
I can’t compose music
or hold a tune,
but I can string words together
by the handful to make jewelry
from diamonds and pearls
to remember you by.
This is the chorus.
I’ll passive aggressively hint
this poem is about you.
You and Me.
Repeat times three.
Are you okay with pebbles
and sand I will inevitably shake
onto your rug?
Can’t promise I’ll clean
the mess up because
I’m already whistling
a brand new song.
This is the chorus.
I’ll passive aggressively hint
this poem is about you.
You and Me.
Repeat times three.
verse-chorus-verse
chorus-verse-chorus-end.
One day my teeth will betray me.
I’ll bite clean through
meat, gristle, fat.
Vegetarianism falls flat
when your demon is splayed out
on the kitchen table.
I’m a liar. I’m a truth teller.
Know this about me.
I do not crave veg, fruit, bread.
I’m no honeybee.
It’s always been about flesh
with little desire
for the flower.
The more my palms manipulate
between these two warm lips
the better.
I want an overfilled larder,
an organized walk-in pantry,
lined with rows of specimens.
I am a greedy needy girl.
Ignore me lover at your peril.
I will stage a hunger strike
requiring a forced feeding.
Oh, my unending appetite!
I can’t be bothered to tame it.
The devil is always ready.
It’ll claw itself up and out
my pitted heart and esophagus,
tickle the epiglottis
until
I spew stew
onto
the dinner plate.
I want to slip a knife
through its rolls
and fucking end me.
Pass the butter.
Gravity leaves us
swimming in the weeds
Queen Anne’s lace
floral refuse left behind
reveals an alternative
state of being
in my divination tea.
Would you chase me
if I was a bun bun?
We could nibble wild carrots
root, leaf, all.
Would you catch me?
Steal my lucky paw?
So many questions,
so few answers emerge
at the bottom of my teacup.
I’d be an astronaut
on another planet
in a different timeline
with you Comrade.
As I close my eyes,
we meet in a myriad
of multiverses
orbiting each other
time
after
time.
She bathes in alkaline washes
knotted to a float
awaiting mechanical sorting
before extraction.
Coffin nail punctures wound
peels back to bruise the black
blood orange red pulp drips
betwixt and between them.
She’s lost inside.
Prefrontal cortex broken.
Don’t try to find
or fix her.
Squeezes
citric acid
sucrose
fructose
glucose
sweetest of sweet.
Splashes
lips
chin
neck
breasts
whose cup’s overflowing?
Compulsion blooms wet
activation countdown initiates
in the amygdala
as he crushes the hypothalamus.
Please!
She begs one last time
for him to keep the saliva.
Down, down, down
lay me down in the garden of evil
beneath waning moon
let night chill our flesh
silence the days complaint
with songs of wildlife consorts.
We become real
when
the artificial world
number sequence falls away
to stretching of bones
in dancing skin suits
claw, fur, fang exposed.
I morph into golden eyed sphinx
my false knight wields
stolen spear and shield.
Shall I grant entrance,
devour lie as riddle complete,
avert my gaze,
continue ignore the truth
of our tangled situation?
I am malfunctioning sponge
soaking up toxins
absorbing poison
ignoring vital functions
willfully neglecting
conversion and conservation
distributing bad medicine
to my skeleton
I am not circulating antibodies
to supporting structures.
I am exposing my dirty hands
knee jerk reacting
centering myself
in a universe
of untold multitudes of suns
each emitting brightly
celestial bodies throwing
her own shadows
on opposing planetary bodies
satellites dancing
constellation choreography
it is unfair, but also fair
for how can I be Sister
if only celebrating the expansion
while disregarding the contraction?
Best case scenario
when splashdown occurs
are our wounds transforming
into faint reminders
spectral pain transmuting us
into Alchemist Survivors.
My once traveling companions
moving in different orbits
know I am not following
empty space between us growing
my love hanging between the stars
will be forever visible.
Let’s dissect spiraling out
what it means to only me
not crashing out
not lashing out
not the definition of an aficionado
this is all about
riding the infinite wave
of possibility and potentiality
dampening my chakras
escaping spirit snaring web
observing it spinning
via my third eye
letting go of little monsters calculating
escaping the cave
searching for light
slipping a ring
on one finger
another
and another
bleeding
believing
gold is power
I’m diverging from the path
others are meandering on
I’m
bending
breathing
as it comes
I’m
bigger than
ring or finger
cave and light
this is my understanding
or misunderstanding
of embracing randomness
spiraling out
I’m not over analyzing
it’s a momentary thought.
Ravenous greedy Hunter
camouflage scent masking spray
crouching in a blind
not daring twitch a muscle
or scratch that maddening itch
ears listening for proof of life
insulated layers keeping out cold
just.
Where’s the justice in this lust?
Not hungering for meat
on the hock,
not requiring skin for blanket
or tent.
Leaving bloody gore
outlining in chalk
decadence of a kill wasted
in the time of want.
Carving out a lone trophy
marking today’s date as holiday
on the celebration list.
Caressing in a naked palm
with neon orange glove removed
reclaiming holy relic
for the glorious church of one.
Weighing while contemplating
its infuriating pulsation
devoid of body and mind
beating on in rebellious fashion.
Growling at its insistence
despite the gnashing of incisors.
Was It satisfying dear heart?
How big is the empty
haunting your woods?
Opening wide to receive
living things
brown, green
vining ivy
insect, leaf
chipping paint flake by flake.
Controlling fire to inspire
ecosystem restorations
ember, ash
decaying flora
disease, grass
prescribing burns to heal damage.
Sweeping earth to undress
prehistoric foundations
spiral, fossil
drilling bits
oil, sludge
propagating roots in substratum.
Carmilla Dawn 