Colored Spit

The shape of my body
was made by the mouth chewing on it.

I was other people’s spit
landing on my face.

Now I break jaws
my insides rainbow and forever.

Keep me on your purple tongue.
I will not be swallowed like an afterthought snack.

I’m the dinner table
the three course meal

and the three hours you’ll carve
out of your schedule

Quick Change

There is body in the coat closet in the hall by the front door, body under the bed in plastic bins, a pile in the garage by the recycling bin.

Two Micros by Stefania Gomez

She holds the coins to my weeping willow face / and shows how I will change their shape, / how they will flatten under freight.