tiːθ


here lies what happens when your mother’s
tongue leaves no word for you. what happens
when your father’s home

misses your body. here lie
your roots in once-empty hands, plucked
one by one like baby teeth. you

swallow and swallow them,
and they don’t grow back.



Poplar Trees

watch branches swing in a sudden gust and watch the
leaves rip free, hang on air itself: an estranged fruit.


Ode to Sweet Potato

here lies what happens when your mother’s tongue leaves no word for you. what happens when your father’s home misses your body. here lie your roots in once-empty hands, plucked one by one like baby teeth. you swallow and swallow them, and they don’t grow back.


Colored Spit

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