star

today's air tastes like berries

and overused metaphors. the shadows run

across golden ground, and i look 

at our old stone wall like they would in farmers' days.

a boundary, a gate

inspired by "Roselily" by Alice Walker

Someone has painted smog across the sky

And made her hands soft–

No more sewing needles or thorny flowers

There is nothing like the floating feeling of trying to do pilates in socks and listening to Cigarettes After Sex as your knees scrape against the carpeted floor and the almost-black almost-night clings to the windows. 

"I have a feeling, a terrible fear encroaching

That I'll never love a boy

The way I love the ocean."

-Maya Hawke, "To Love a Boy"

i hate watching

you. i hate the blood

that pumps underneath your right hand

and runs through you red and thick and salty--

i hate your stubborn lips, mouthing

every 

word.

i wish i didn't wonder