From Mexico I brought you a silver and red heart:
I don’t like girls—our big, ugly nipples,
slumber parties, cucumbers damming
Rob ran a solid red, first car in pilgrimage
to Rocky Horror Picture show. He flicked a gaze back.
Like many beginnings, this is soft and small. Pink,
smelling of flake soap and breastmilk.
Nobody expected the bloody dog. Nobody. Not even here in South Philly where some sketchy shit could be happening behind any door, down any side street, at any time of day.
My mother built her tower out of baby teeth
Winter 2015 Digital Edition
Click the link to open the digital version of the print issue.
I will love you
in the dark
orange by orange
Beneath the florescent thrum of conversation
beneath every sole, heel, and rounded boot
beneath pivotal hearts