snow in the blood. my lover’s coo
“Show me the place,” he said.
I removed my shirt and pointed
to a tiny star above my heart.
I got them first to navigate the waters/ of pregnancy, so I could ride the subway/ without gorge rising, without feeling faint.
Sex. Brutality. Animal faces. Wrathful oceans. Rickety boats. Stupid men who robbed my human rights. Insecure love affairs. Floating corpses’ love affairs. Am I also a floating corpse? What else?
On that last day, we read images taken
from a moving car, listening
to the artist speak of wanting that way
time stretches things out
readable in the frame