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Virginia Eden Oct 15
Every beautiful thing I own
is from you. My stain glass lamp and
my marigold teapot and the blue sweater I wear every day
My coffee habit, my cocky attitude
My job, all the things I say
I dream of
Are all imported, all you  


And just when I think I have wrung myself out fully
Like a filthy dish towel into the sink
I remember
Even my stupid dish towels—
The ones with the strawberries printed on them
and the stains I can’t get out
those are from you too.
Oct 8 · 23
My Mother
I dreamt I turned my mother
into a bird—white,
with long thin feathers
and wrinkled red skin around her eyes.
I watched her cluck and scrabble
at the ground.
We ate her for dinner,
three lean coyotes in the coop.
and in the morning
I cleaned up the feathers,
pawed at her leftover bones and beak.
I buried it all in the garden,
the strange curve of my wolfish face
reflected in a single glob of fat
still clinging
to the wet, cold dirt.
Jun 6 · 54
City
Hungry star eater
Your lattice of crown-shy skyscrapers
Bathes the world
In permanent fluorescence.
Dec 2022 · 124
the shrine
Virginia Eden Dec 2022
It is a pilgrimage to a lesser-known shrine
a whispered vesper to the running salt sea
It is martyrdom the moment your knees sink
to the stone of the altar, all godhead and
holiness spilling from your lips and onto mine.
We are wine-drunk against parched rock,
suspended momentarily in the sliver
of a sunbeam, our mingled breaths
cradled in a sunken half-moon,
all sage and smoke and salt,
an offering to a lesser-known god.
Dec 2022 · 292
the harvest
Virginia Eden Dec 2022
the last of the September apples,
molded and sunken in the dirt
plucked from the earth by
fat small hands,
she fingers the loose brown skin
and, grotesquely, it gives way,
its wrinkled and rotting face
shrinking from the sun.
Jul 2021 · 133
Drowned
Virginia Eden Jul 2021
in the caustic brine
the fish excavate my flesh
until i am nothing
but clean white bone
yet, undone as i am,
all at once the quiet lull
makes me whole again.
Jul 2021 · 702
Boyfriend
Virginia Eden Jul 2021
When we go out
I wear cheap vanilla perfume and a push-up bra
We sit in the back of your car
And I let you put your tongue in my mouth, your fingers,
your hands around my throat
I know you think there’s a natural order to these things
But you won’t say it to me out loud
You just get on top of me and pin me down
And I wonder why my sick little mind likes it.
Jun 2021 · 851
Sisters
Virginia Eden Jun 2021
At dinner,
I give her my peppers
she gives me her celery,
and this is how we say I love you.
Apr 2021 · 150
Honey & Kisses
Virginia Eden Apr 2021
We swam in moonlight,
liquid and effusive,
basking in the twilight bliss
tasting the honey and kisses
that drip so willingly from the lips
of new lovers.
Virginia Eden Dec 2020
There is a thrill in living
in a universe that starts and ends
in the space between your body and mine
two binary stars orbiting one another in a dance,
volatile and overconfident,
undeterred by the fate
gravity has in store for us.
and the heat death of our little universe
comes fast
rather than slow
abruptly, though not altogether unexpectedly,
we have reached absolute zero.
now here we are
two dead stars
in an infinite expanse,
the last victims
of empyreal and perverted entropy.
Mar 2020 · 124
unholy
Virginia Eden Mar 2020
I fear I have met
the echo of a god,
listless, but divine.
Virginia Eden Mar 2020
lemon lies and lavender love
lovely and lascivious
with lolling grace and languid liquidity
slaking lust
longing
licking
lemon lies and lavender love
Mar 2020 · 516
Witch of Sage and Sorrow
Virginia Eden Mar 2020
She dances
moonsoaked and citrine
with pale paper skin,
smooth palms open toward the sky
and from her desert-kissed lips
spill wildflower prayers.

She knows she is but
 a fleeting impression 
against the canvas of the night
so she betrays all her silver secrets
to the all too eager wind
who whisks them away
to some dusky autumnal den.
Mar 2020 · 136
The Last of the Milk
Virginia Eden Mar 2020
I have stolen
the last
of the milk

And now
you will probably
have to eat
your cereal dry

So sorry
my oreos
were thirsty
imitation poetry for class
Mar 2020 · 113
The Guitar
Virginia Eden Mar 2020
How out of tune I am,
like a guitar that has gone so long unplayed
that the strings have lost their tautness
and begun to sing
in discordant, bellied wails.
Feb 2020 · 97
Daydreaming
Virginia Eden Feb 2020
Yesterday
I fell asleep in math class
And had a daydream about a cake
Topped with white frosting
And maraschino cherries.
Feb 2020 · 118
Our Lady of the Holy Death
Virginia Eden Feb 2020
Nuestra Señora de la Santa Muerte sonríe
Su dientes se hacen de oro
Y sus labios de rubíes
Lleva un collar de espinas y abalorios de madera
Y una corona de huesos agrietados y los rayos del sol
Ella es una fantasma
creada por el miedo y, posiblemente, la lujuria
de los hombres
Finge que no oye los aullidos de humanidad  
Ha saboreado las estrellas
Y piensa que son como sal y azúcar
Los otros dioses comen y miran,
pero no dicen nada.
Virginia Eden Feb 2020
Let me sail away on a boat
made of soda-lime glass
Let me float out to the middle of the ocean
as a messenger in a bottle
Let me lie there
cradled in the crook of the tumultuous sea
pressing my face against the curve of the glass
watching for the glint of neon fish
and great ocean leviathans
And, when I grow bored,
let the glass of my boat fracture and shatter
and sink
to the very bottom
so that the ocean can swallow its messenger
And in a thousand years, let all of my glass pieces
wash up on the golden sands
of some forgotten shore,
smoothed and beautiful.
Nov 2019 · 342
Poets
Virginia Eden Nov 2019
What we call magic
is merely the set of tools left over
from the spiraling eddies of Creation
and picked up by Poets.
Poets, who can transmute the dross and tedium of life
into the gold of enduring art,
who can sing the sky into existence
and the stars to sleep
whose words are eventually eaten up by ravenous Time
and spit out like sour grapes onto the ground,
left to rot.
Poets, who will write
until the only ones left to read
are languishing gods
and unraveling stardust.
Oct 2019 · 162
In the Cradle of Twilight
Virginia Eden Oct 2019
I do not remember days
Only nights without stars
And fragile paper moons.
May 2019 · 641
We, The Swallows
Virginia Eden May 2019
We are but lowly swallows
pulling together the corners of the universe
so that other lovers might be together,
if just for a single, stranded night
of reckless abandon.
A poem on feeling like the leftover piece in someone else's romance novel

— The End —