*Poetry — December 1, 2022
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Coat me in dust from the bloodmoon, red & hot like
the fresh spilled blood from a cut just below
the cheerleader’s left ass cheek when she attempted
that abominable move landing us here, in
a recreative newness where nature took back
our car and strangled from it the last drop of fuel
with its poison ivy tentacles. I’ve now unearthed
my algae palms, let new light shine through
the terrarium of self I once clasped shut. Under
a new name of King or Christ, I’m losing myself
to homecoming pageantry. The cheerleader who bled
bled for me and I can deify her thighs. Come,
I know a place where they bedazzle desserts
and I know every semi-precious gem swallowed
is a year to make ourselves indebted. I know we are
too alike not to.
the fresh spilled blood from a cut just below
the cheerleader’s left ass cheek when she attempted
that abominable move landing us here, in
a recreative newness where nature took back
our car and strangled from it the last drop of fuel
with its poison ivy tentacles. I’ve now unearthed
my algae palms, let new light shine through
the terrarium of self I once clasped shut. Under
a new name of King or Christ, I’m losing myself
to homecoming pageantry. The cheerleader who bled
bled for me and I can deify her thighs. Come,
I know a place where they bedazzle desserts
and I know every semi-precious gem swallowed
is a year to make ourselves indebted. I know we are
too alike not to.
Originally published in No Tokens Issue No. 10. View full issue & more.