Hypochondriac

  You and your wings have left me paralyzed—the ‘skeltered wings      hanging like crows’ nests, indefinitely, fusing together like salt and ice. And she said: Please, do not call me darling anymore. The sky still carried some of the incense...

My Love For What Resembles

  Flutter and burn, you turn almost sideways, glinting like those who lay un-described and silent. Lackadaisical birds. Tell me something other than your two methods of circumference, the legality of chloroform, the two figures lost in the dark on the other side...

Psychology & Wine

(I apologize in advance; this poem needs a lot of work.) Psychology & Wine 1. At first, when she was nervous, the girl peeled the skin from the back of her heels—nibbled her lips, crimson-blue— until they were nothing but pulled onions, the pale moons...

Early Signs Of—

It was on a night like this when I stopped trying to find you. Your body disappeared, and I was left in a sea of white linen and feather-down— the area around the bed and the main hallway like a thousand corridors. Antelope filled these halls, their eyes turning...