And it was beautiful. The night began and years passed within the / forest. Coughs of trees and the blue snow light tapped the window. / Your shape for the window.
RECENTLY PUBLISHED
Excerpt from “Inferior Normal”
my body as landfill, as food for rats, /
as slime on plastic bottles and broken washing machines.
Shed Project Notes, August 30, 2019—La Madera, NM
Hey hey, mezcal, cactus fruit, /
rose quartz—tectonic breath and lightning at the throat. The air /
in La Madera. Fetid marigold somewhere in the back of the heart.
Malacca River
When the rain came, sweet earth bloomed. /
The river’s wound healed, swelling to meet /
the first lightning strike in a kiss. Still buried /
in the silt of the riverbed, I opened my mouth /
to taste the first drop—as acrid as raw honey.
BRUNCH.
i am descendant from women who greet death like brunch. /
i do not know if this is bravery or foolishness.
Rippling Through the Dark
Light / traipses through water and water / envelopes my mother’s hands. / How her hands have torqued / my dark body—a kind of light / I’ve never understood
