2 Poems

the bees are dying—can you feel it? i want

to press my tongue gently against green mesh i want

to bite softly into a sponge of any color i want

to rip & chew & spit that sponge bit out of my mouth

when it becomes small & hard & no longer satisfying the rose

is a rat the rat is a rose

saturn is rising in the 8th house

reading about emotional responses to the end of nature

i start to feel like i might become a rain drop i wish

i could give birth to an orchid as my body moves

in one language & thinks in another—another landscape

another tongue—i see dogs wearing amber necklaces

& think whoa, amber is the color of my energy

pain is a psalm that sings your body is a bivouac

a

spiritstatic

load

—

whisper

writing

over

your

body

a

prayer

of

inky

mess

drenching

your

pores

i

can

see

all

the

seismic

cracks

in

your

skin

reminders

of

a

life

before

me

of

a

life

after

me

my

heart

beats

faster

than

cicada

wings

i’ve

been

buried

these

13

years

(

nymph

emerging

)

&

you

are

just

trying

to

sleep

but

i

want

to

tell

you

how

i

am

dead

(

&

not

dead

)

i

am

dead

i

am

dead

i

am

dead

slowly

i

recite

i

am

dead

until

eternity

blossoms

tessellating

between

mind

&

room

dead

dead

dead

but

i

am

not

dead

too

—

everything

that

tethers

a

living

mind

to

a

dead

body

here

on

the

other

side

of

the

elevated

sublime

—

i

am

beginning

to

see

time

my

obsession

a

geode

sorrow

is

an

instagram

filter

i

wear

in

my

boredom

s”he

pertained

to

the

spiritual

aestheticization

of

limits

”

subtle

my

body

forms

in

reverse

shedding

this

swan

skin

chanting

da

da

derrida

daddy