HOME | DD

Description
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i wonder what you've made with the loom of your hips, those hands crocheted into woolen orchids. i want to tell you "bloom" but it's probably too late— the sun's bursting ripe into seersucker thighs, and he won't wait for a mere flower.

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she was half girl and half convolvulus; as you took each sparrow bone apart systemically i kissed her twining knees.

"why is death so often early?" you asked, ribbon candy curls smeared with blood like tincture. i thought of the underbellies of swans and other delicate things, the small acts of grace revealed as they were dismantled into freefall.

"i'll show you," i said; you moved to toward me on tulip-pink feet. "look." and i cut your winter butter hair, until you were a floral axis and all around us, tugged by the wind, were: shorn petals. lost love.

it was beautiful.

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Description
-

i wonder what you've made with the loom of your hips, those hands crocheted into woolen orchids. i want to tell you "bloom" but it's probably too late— the sun's bursting ripe into seersucker thighs, and he won't wait for a mere flower.

-

she was half girl and half convolvulus; as you took each sparrow bone apart systemically i kissed her twining knees.

"why is death so often early?" you asked, ribbon candy curls smeared with blood like tincture. i thought of the underbellies of swans and other delicate things, the small acts of grace revealed as they were dismantled into freefall.

"i'll show you," i said; you moved to toward me on tulip-pink feet. "look." and i cut your winter butter hair, until you were a floral axis and all around us, tugged by the wind, were: shorn petals. lost love.

it was beautiful.

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