Meeting Baba Yaga, a story of snarls, whelps, teeth bearing and counterfeit luck.
10.22.16
maybe you’re scared of the same thing
maybe you’ve emptied so deep
your inside out now
the sun had wilted your wet
the air has cracked your whole
the shoe has dropped and
insanity is maybe the best excuse for
reassurance
or at least
repetition.
on it’s last leg theres no fixation on how much
a lion would prowl
I’m here
back arched, teeth bare
can you hear it?
10.12.16
her cancer spread to my heart
his head
their skin
there was nothing in her bones less brittle
than our stability.
we clawed our way through honeymoon bee stings
ate crow for breakfast and
took palms to our fists at night
do you recognize fear?
when the beast becomes the fawn
we’re bloodied in our own guilt
there’s no washing this off.
our desires disease compassion
my knees are tired of bending.
this is the birth of snake skin