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Listen:

I Look So Tired Vacating My Tomb

a biorhythmic plume
in oversized
cotton
I rise
from the water
opposite
a livestream
watch a bead
of sweat
surface
refecting the severity
of this damage
the un
reality
of the birds
opening up
alone
we look into
our holes
sparks flying off
the netting of
our bodies
it is best
to write
this burning
down
for destruction
create
a sense
of ceremony
over
a cup of water
an open flame
stuffng paper
in my gums
so I can catch
on fire
I want to be
sulphuric
a high priestess
carrying a silencer
a ghost with
a mouth
full of
flaming arrows
divination here
being the routine
cleaning of our
light switches
creating an oval
around our limbs
with pine bark
extract
foraged
on Instagram
promo codes
we will add
to our carts
with intention
a way to better
our bodies’
range of washes
I look into
the direction
of my sofa’s
pebbled leather
moving soap
and water
with a forked wire
mud with
an extra-small
box cutter
to find
the unseen power
a cicada
burrowing
in my shin
I am happiest
when my thoughts are
made remote
muted
from others
my cells
scattering on
a high-touch
surface
paralyzed
by diazepam
thoughts of
cash bars
the growing space
inside me
each morning
I sit still
in my damp kidney
and fouler
feathers
a fragrant scent
I microbend for
the instructor
over video
I wish I could hold to
the pose
without effort
hold up
my ovaries
like milkweed
for the vultures
circling my limbs
in my head
I am plated
so beautifully
on aesthetically
pleasing gunmetal
stone fruit
and ancient grains
lining my intestines
this is operating
above ground
is how I bunch
under the weight
of my own talons
and your finer
aerosol
at least now
I can feel relevant
swiping right
after so much
mundanity
palpating
desert chalk and
picking over
finer bones
with aluminum
toothpicks
I’ve had
better days
oiling my heels
to go out
and hunt for men
and money
with my big
breasts inflated
it’s hard living
through this
enormity
of nothing
legs sanitized
between uses
amassing
an average
body
a polymer of red
worry
I teeth out
with future
expenses
extract
the dead
emotions
my one
resistance
scrolling
to feel
even less

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