"The air gasped like a smothered candle.
Treetops grasped at fleeing angels.
Something came accusing the rose,
and the afternoon sighed with butterflies."
"I walked barefoot on eggshells
and remembered not to say things.
You cut the teeth of our house keys
on the parts of my soul"
“Do you think she is full?” while sitting warily
beside the lion. The circus owner reassures,
pockets the extra cash and shrugs, says risk
is everywhere in life."
"I tried to form animal shapes out of the texture of the ceiling while blotches of delayed color blinked around my vision. I experienced my first taste of the dread that has since taken up a parasitic residence in my gut as I counted how many times Brandon and I’d had sex that month. Maybe twice, a very slight chance of pregnancy, but still a chance."
“You have to work with the words in front of you to create a new narrative in your voice. That’s thrilling. An erasure is like a choose your own adventure with words, a cento or a remix is like putting together a puzzle. But you have to tell your own story, just like any traditionally written poem.”