your mother/hacked together skeleton wings into two-part pieces/bleeding stars, you thought/neurons fizzing out/you had all the time in the the universe/your eyes dripped down/the back of your spacesuit/a so-called prodigy ghost/acid smoke and ashes like grey planet dust/the moon is waning/you dip your hands in bak kut teh (it burns)/astronaut helmet with a child-friendly glass window/watch everyone from your box/time-out at recess/math grades and jack stauber/lavender arteries like your grandfather’s old letters saying/i’m sorry/you didn’t want to grow up into/failure in red circles, a footnote/graffiti on the neon walls of the public restroom/etiquette is smiling when you get slapped in the face/how does it feel to be/rejected and so beautifully praised
over/looking/the kid at the front/back of the classroom
More by mooncakes
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the waiting place is a tea store on sunday
中午 At 12:00 pm you walk into the tea store that lies just above the edges of your consciousness, embalm your tongue with the scent of green tea and honey.
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D O M I N U S V O B I S C U M
slide the depths of your voice from the dust-lungs of your body,
spirit fluttering iridescent ivory feathers into the ianthine arteries of your heart.
breathe and you etch a cross onto your subconscious, glowing like
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amnesia
wrap your laced-up fingers around my throat like you don’t want to breathe,
hold my pupils in your palms. do you want to smile?
amnesia. the brain doesn’t like the watercolour poem of my skeletal frame,
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