An Education on Idioms
Tell me how: best to eat
this beating heart.
They swallow that of cobras
and they swear on other halves
of venomous snakes.
Hearts have been done and devoured—
but yours—yours is a little
less little
these days.
This hole in my chest
is reckless, I know so
I should just learn
how best: to be happy
for you.
I should
but I still
under the hungriest
of seagulls
ache and wait
a little longer
for my next meal.
On Your Marriage: Part I
There is a rest—
oh, how I cry
starve the hardest of all
my sisters
oh, how I try
on old dresses
in the dark.
This is everything
an empty stomach feels.
This is how
I come
around
the corner
and fall
apart.
Nothing seems to tear
at my nature
like you
so please keep them dear
those pieces
should
you
keep
a few.
On Y(our) Honeymoon: Part II
I come out of the forest with an unearthly
hunger for him: the taste of honey crisp bourbon
the way he splits his skin
on the coniferous trees.
Too many rises
not enough nights—
they say,
shadows are heaviest
while hauling a heart
and I’m beginning
to think that I cannot carry
him anymore—
The image of ghosts, us as diamonds
implanted in the weeds and thorns adoring
all the shoulders, ankles, kneecaps in between.
I cannot hold.
I cannot hear.
I cannot reach that fog.
Here with dirty hair
and baby teeth
do I pull towards
another season
another moon.
I cannot forget—
but I will forage and move.