i feel its twisted desire
it hisses an incantation
calls down the shadows of
betelgeuse bellatrix saiph rigel
to pin my shoulders my hips
against the bed
i feel its twisted desire
it hisses an incantation
calls down the shadows of
betelgeuse bellatrix saiph rigel
to pin my shoulders my hips
against the bed
after “The Ballad of Othello Clemence” by George Elliott Clarke A ghost, I no longer know how to weep yet grieve the madness of false words believed. I recollect how I adored recitations of your exploits, how I traced the outline of your calloused hands, …your biceps, your lips; marking them ……with my scent, curling […]
AT WATER’S EDGE Let still water be your mirror and noonday clarity frame your face breathe according to the slow rhythm of butterfly wings—closing, opening let water trace the outline of your body as you slide through it— notice past infiltrates present— cup the water, redolent of leaves, in a curve of cheek, blow it […]