taphonomy / spell break
you know best—i waver, unquivered in my sleep-
sack, i bring you to the abandonment i created,
the sweet dirt in my palms & hair, all of me
serrated in graves. i knew a man to call a father,
briefly, & then another. speakofthedevil comes up
from the skull-wings, kisses me again & again
in my makeshift bed shared with children
by the dozen. i doze here in the boneyard,
make soup-broth out of dead-breath. an extraordinary
baker, i can savor flavors of the after, the carvings
done in sand, all our names destined to be cemented,
to be storied, & then to be resurrected in error.
if you didn’t know already, i’m casting a spell
on you, dearly beloved. speakofthedevil is coming—
it’s supper, or else, it’s nuptial. i welcome birth,
but unlike death, i can’t perform it on my own.
Other Works
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... We don't talk about the other women in my past, just as we don't discuss the men in hers ...