June kneels down & begs for a new name.

To be built into a body that doesn’t know

how to bite. Let me forget the taste of ashes.

I want to invent a new language that has no

use for the word ‘fire’. A new town that isn’t

sinking under the weight of all that rainfall.

Take me to God’s back alley, swaddle me in

the silence of a prayer. I’m not asking for gold.

I’m just looking for my way home.

If we’re talking about past lives, I think I was an

astronaut. You were the first constellation I ever

named. After light, life, hope, death. You were the

black hole that wouldn’t stop ringing. A keening in

the darkness. Fast forward a couple hundred years,

you live in the arctic & I’m the one wildflower that

dared to grow through the ice. I’m the girl in a medical

bubble, you’re the aspiring paramedic that’s trying to

accept that he can’t save them all. I’m a fortune teller,

you’re the tarot card that pops up so often I wind up

throwing out the whole deck. Aphrodite & I aren’t on

speaking terms anymore. Whatever is out there decided

your soul was too good & condensed you into the rose

quartz I carry around in my pocket. You’re an avalanche,

I’m a monsoon – we both send everyone we love running

for cover, clutching at door frames. Present day, I’m just

a seashell hoarder that’s wondering which ocean is

speaking to me. You’re alone in front of the Pacific Ocean,

talking right at me.

come broken,

be dry ice & smoke inhalation.

always about a girl.

like shattered glass.

mismatched mosaic.

wounds stitched together,

heart fraying at the seams.

she says:

give me poetry or set me wild.

god, give the girl fire.

give her a violet life.

make her delirious in love.

wild in the face of fear.

god, give the girl a better beginning.

give her a taste of the sun.

flood her sky with birds.

build her body from the salt water.

god, give the girl a universe in her name.

give her hands that know forgiveness.

let her know the grace of wings.

forget the thorns in her side.

god, give the girl a sanctuary in the sky.

bleed & celebrate

she’s a god

      dark & wild

      soft as velvet

blue girl sets fire to the sky

she's born champagne

        and porcelain ghost

    picture it

girl as brilliant & healing as

                             morning

June knows the heat is just a metaphor.

Another way to say I won’t survive the

season. But I’ll spend what time I have

left with the sun. Drinking straight from

a cactus and watching all the flowers wilt.

Summer is far more lethal than any sword.

The petals fall. My skin glows. I am an ember

and everything is on fire. This kindling heart

of mine longs for the West Coast, for a forest

fire that can put my flames to shame.

May has daffodil eyes, tastes of spring water.

She is a spring tantrum. Hail ricochets off her

bones. Petals form a nest around her heart.

She swallows wisps of clouds, stains her fingers

with wild berries. Weaves poison ivy through her

hair. She never wants to be anything soft or

disposable. She has honeyed skin, vanilla mouth.

Sugar sweet girl. Broken glass wedged in between

fists. Holds her breath, drains the pink from her

cheeks. Turns herself blue. Says, I was never

built for spring. I am the skeletons in the closet.

The ghosts in the basement. I am the outcast,

dressed up like a pageantry.

1. with your hands like a prayer / and my body ready to split apart 

    beneath them / i confuse romance for hunger / and then lose my

    appetite / with my mouth stained red / these roses in my rib cage /

    caught beneath the skin / the thorns pricking every place that held

    your name / and i bleed blue / and there's a poem there / but it has

    sharp edges / so i draw my hand back / and i don't drown in it / and

    there's a bird nest outside my window again / but we're not speaking

    the same language anymore / and i survive the spring / and i bloom /

    with light and light and light

2. with your hands like a prayer / and my body like a confessional / time

    heals wounds / but i am still coughing up the petals

3. with your hands like a prayer / and my body sweeter than cherry juice

    / here's the truth / lightning doesn't strike the same place twice / and

    eventually your body learns to forgive / even if it still craves the after-

    shock

4. once / i said love tasted just like cherries

5. once / i said the birds sang your name

6. once / i said there was just honeysuckle

7. today / i walked right past the cherry display

tonight, we are nothing but glittering bodies.

we are a shining testament to what love looks

like. we are built like a shrine of roses & our

petals never wilt. call us sun-stricken,

such glorious beings of light. we hide sugar

packets and basil in our pockets. dab lavender

and juniper oil on our wrists. the moon speaks

our name like lullabies.

tonight, the shadows can’t reach us.

tonight, we are infinitely glittering bodies.