Some nights, she calls for me still. I listen for the luring hum of her temptress chant, her bewitching ballad, her siren song. “Let us bathe together again under the clever moon,” she sings. “Let us join hands once more and we shall stain the night with truth!” Lady Justice beckons me nearer, but I turn my eyes to the sun. Though my spirit yearns for the atonement in her touch, my heart no longer kneels to her carnal call. I thank her for her mischief and I kiss her vengeful lips for the last time. Farewell, my sweet Goddess of Divine Retribution! I close my eyes, and when I open them again, she is gone—  effervescent in the amaranthine midnight.

Before you
And your gentle wit
And all the colors of your kindness  
There were only embers of me

In those days,
I fawned wisdom with my words
And painted every page azure
A ****** blue
A fresh snow on an already frozen lake

Before you,
Every season of anguish simmered up from the floorboards
And flowed through my currents  
And bubbled out of me like hot molasses

Before the roots of you wrapped around my fingers
And your soul spilled into mine
There was only rain
Only a flood that brought pen to paper

Before you
There were only embers of me
But now, my heart ablaze
it takes a storm to put me out

Moon wanes tonight
The woeful Anhinga takes flight
She’s foul fowl, past lovers say
Truest form—Bird of Prey

Beneath you, I glow
Body illuminated
Ultraviolet
Moonlit
An incandescent silhouette
I radiate for you

Never wavering
Always thinking
Listening
Feeling
You are a mirror

Built to be constant  
To be melded
And stained
With colors only angels dream in

Crafted to reflect
To refract
To rebuild
To redefine

You are a bleeding blue
And a mellow lilac
And a crimson blaze
All in one

And there’s nothing
Your magic doesn’t touch
Or your soul doesn’t cover
Like fleece on gentle skin

You are calm and chaos
And all the heat in between
There’s no river
You can’t outrun  

My heart has known yours
In seasons of warm
And seas of grief
And in droughts and storms and
Through freezing rain

So now all that’s left
Is the rest of this life
And the thunder
And the light
And your reflection looking back at me

Courage wears a pleated mini skirt  
Red tights and Mary Janes
Gold shadow in the corner of her eye
Courage wears a **** bra
Three shades darker from two weeks worth of sweat
A silken ivory blouse, first two—
No— first three buttons undone
Scrubs
Courage wears overalls
Rolled at the ankles
A nose ring
Butterfly clip and an old locket
Courage wears men’s boxers on a female body
Dr. Marten’s with the chunky soles
Carabiner on the (right) belt loop
And her grandfather’s leather belt
Courage wears gold hoops and a silver watch
White after Labor Day and off-white on her wedding day
A lab coat in the morning, a breast pump at lunch, and a little black dress later tonight
Courage wears a uniform
Hand-me-downs and Goodwill sneakers
Cheap lingerie and slutty stilettos
An orange jumpsuit
Camouflage
Courage wears a binder to church
A burqa to school
Box braids in the office
Courage wears the pants
Wears the shoe when it fits
Wears her heart on her sleeve
Wears pain like a badge of honor
Courage wears a kitten heel
Even when it goes out of style

And so,
I looked back at the fire behind me
At all the orange and ash
I set down my pail
And my hardness sat with it
And I wept
And the scorched earth around me
Began to soften
And only then, did I know
Only in the eye of the storm,
Could I see
That I had not escaped

I had simply become one
With the flame

Appalachian Justice:
Often served luke-warm
With salmon croquets fried on the stove
Lunchroom peas from a can
Mashed potatoes that look more like butter cream
And a “Bless your heart”
That sounds more like a curse

Midnight started going by Night when she turned twenty-five. She was “letting the tides guide.” Getting her chakras aligned. Drinking smoothies. Said it was a New Moon, ‘ya know? A blank slate. A fresh canvas. Said this would make her whole.

Maybe it’ll stick. Maybe this new dawn will be the last. Only Earth knows, of course. But I heard through the grapevine that Daylight’s been saying it’s just a phase.

if the lines of code
that capture all these thoughts  
somehow bubble up
in a distant pool
in a plasma of pixels
in a far off river of an era
and spill out into the world
let it be known
that i am doing my best
i am fighting the good fight
i am here on the right side
the lovers’ side
and let it be known
that i’ll do my part
to burn it all up
if i have to

But the room was so loud and it was so late
(But you have legs and I have a voicemail)
But I forgot all about it
(But you remember now)
But I lost track of time
(But you saw the sun go down)
But why should I have to?
(But why don’t you want to?)
But the world is ending
(But you are my world)
But I don’t love you anymore
(But did you ever?)

There’s no mural I could paint  
No poem to compose
Not a sinner nor a saint
Who could ever truly show

The depths of my devotion
The desires of my heart
The extent of my emotion  
How my love for you is art

For love and art are tethered
Birthed from pain and hope  
Both beautiful, worn and weathered
A brilliant kaleidoscope

How does it feel?

To be a leech?
To siphon the life out of everyone who has the misfortune of breathing your air?
To paint the room with a stench so thick with wickedness that the walls cave in around you?

How does it feel to loathe the essence of your own animal so loudly-
And yet, so shamefully?
Does it soften the torment?
Or do you just lie in it?
Sink in it?
Drown in it?

Does it really cut you open like the Curse of Aphrodite?
Feast on your rancid, rotted, spirit?
Or is it just Ananke and Phthonus smoldering in your veins?
Fueling your fire together
and igniting that foul and wretched creature inside of you?  

How does it feel to bare witness?
To be consumed by us?
To be plagued by the melody of our magic,
knowing your seething rage forever falls on deaf ears?

Does it bubble up through your chest and spill out of your ***** stained spout?
Does it flood your fragile bones,
and your tormented mind,
and your weak, trembling hands?

And does it soothe your bleeding tongue to swallow the sharpness of my sword?
And does it keep your embers warm to see yourself in her?
Or are you freezing?
In your own inexorable desolation?
Your casket of delusion?
In the frigid blight of a just exile?

Tell me:
How does it feel to sit in your brokenness?
To be so fractured by sickness?
So poisoned with envy?
What is it then,
Is it the purity of my blade you so desperately lust after?
Or just a mouthful of blood?

How does it feel to know,
in the deepest parts of you,
that when you lick your yearning lips at the thought of her,
you are tasting the flesh of your own captor?

How does it feel?
I’m glad I’ll never know.

How does it feel to know-
in the deepest parts of you-
that when you lick your yearning lips at the thought of her,
you are tasting the flesh of your own captor?

How does it feel?
I am glad I’ll never know.

All roads lead to your curls
Have you read My Heart lately?
It’s the Hero’s Journey
And you, my Resurrection

And at the end of the night
when all the creaks in the floorboard are tired
of creaking
and the sky looks like oil slick on asphalt,
all fuzzy black and still;
while midnight creeps in
through gaps in laughter
and yawns wide enough to swallow me whole;
after the lull of full bellies
and soft yellow good-nights fade into the blissful quiet,

I still close my eyes
and I think of you.

I am basking in the green
Looking through time
Listening to the chorus of us
And I wonder if the Moon is listening too

Oh— to be a Pothos vine
Crawling towards the light
Always takes her precious time
Makes every room so bright!
Oh— to be a golden green
With marbled fronds so lush
She, the thriving Houseplant Queen
Makes other flora blush!
But, lo— beneath her heavenly form
Her truest magic resides
For through the winter and the storm
She’s balanced as the tides
Oh— to have that perfect Pothos Power
Flourishing through the night
Oh— to grow and never to cower
No matter how daunting the fight
For it’s her courage that we envy,
Her fortitude that we fear
Her resilient leafy frenzy
That will suddenly appear
Even when you think she’s dead and gone
The stars will still align
A tiny sprout will bloom at dawn  
The mighty Pothos vine!

When it’s three in the afternoon
And yellow is spilling through window panes
And a breeze is greeting my shoulders
And the grass is hanging on so tightly to the wet earth
That I think it might never let go

When familiar smoke lingers
In cool plum air
And the circle shrinks
And kindred spirits retreat
Into knots of one another  

When the heart of the world
Is beating
Much too fast
And all that I need
Is a quiet blank canvas

When clay turns to dirt turns to dust
And the pond dries up
And the thirst of the earth
Is finally quenched
By a divine downpour
  
When the rain comes
Like it was always meant to
And fills up my cup
And breathes life into the land
And laughter into my veins

When the stars peek out
When I hear that record
When azaleas start to bloom
When it’s time to write
That’s when,
When I am reminded of you

Notice the Spring  
Notice the Return
Return of flight
Return of light
Light the Earth
Light my life
Life with her
Life in color
Color of birth
Color me rose
Rose to prune
Rose up above
Above the seas
Above the blooms
Blooms of angels  
Blooms that endure
Endure the frost
Endure what’s lost
Lost in her
Lost in March
March of longing
March to me
Me in white
Me in forgiveness
Forgiveness is here
Forgiveness on lips
Lips on cheeks
Lips down beneath
Beneath your bones
Beneath, I’ll be
Be yours forever
Be mine for always
Always my darlin’
Always like honey
Honey so sweet
Honey I’m home
Home like hive
Home of seasons
Seasons of change
Seasons of growth
Growth like moss
Growth of soul
Soul on tap
Soul in soil
Soil of her
Soil of Spring
Spring has arrived
Spring of love
Love
Spring

For you,
I feel an ancient yearning
Baked into my bones
A cosmic ache-
A prehistoric hunger-
A primitive pining

Yes,
It’s a supernatural connection—
Mine and yours—
A rest-the-vessel,
Let-the-tides-guide,
Sacred sort of love

Because betwixt us,
There is a longing
Only the moon
No — only god, herself  
And all her sapphic sovereignty
Could resist

There is a glowing desire
So fervent within us
That I wish I could reach into your Heavenly Body
And pull out your stars  
And thread them into the nest of my womb

An immortal, galactic romance—
Ours is—
Fit for gallery halls and poetry readings
And woven with all the glittery things  
But it’s Roommates, they’ll call us
Roommates, reads our plaque

Roommates—
Not lovers, nor sweethearts
Not partners, nor darlings
No lust
No lore
The saga of us, enduring no more

Celestial stains and divine shame
Roommates, we’ll remain
So we’ll guard this holy matrimony,
We’ll let our lovers’ anthem die
We know the truth is in the stars
We know who lives a lie

the cyan air is kind again
our tongues much softer now
there is no wicked prophecy
left here to disavow

in this cruel place we knelt and wept
as autumn bore her teeth
but still it’s here where love has slept  
that roots have birthed beneath

she knew not the seeds that she had sewn
would stretch to taste the light
and in that wretched grime had grown
a fruit so pure and bright

and oh, how kind the stars have been
for here and now we stand
with all the saplings and the sins
together, hand in hand

what’s blossomed here is ours to tend,
a harvest all our own
this, i know, is the sweetest end
that i have have ever known

white drapes,
wax on the table,
muscadine wine,
and "won't you come sit?"

this is the color of hope, i think
this old green couch
with the missing spring
and us,
knitted together,
bodies eclipsed-
a tangy, smitten tangerine of a love

Let the winds of a reckoning
Blow through the street
Mother Ma’at is beckoning—
Prepare for defeat

Because hasn’t every new song already been sung?
Because there are no new thoughts under the sun
Because every other freckle since birth has come from the light of the same sun
Because the sun on my face today,
Is the sun that poisoned my skin twelve summers ago—
Is the sun that birthed the roots of the Oaks that taught me about pain—
Is the sun that blinded Icarus—
Is the sun that lit up Genesis—
Is the sun that makes me squint my eyes
And open up wide all at once
The sun that will mull the bones of humanity into an earthen wine  
And swallow us up
Is the sun that raised me
And I think my dreams
Are the only parts of me that are mine
Because every waking thought I have is solar-powered,
Cosmically fueled and eternally eclipsed
Because it’s only after the sun goes down
When the body is at rest and the darkness comes
That my own light can shine,
And my truth illuminates the night.

I see you—
Wild heart, tender thing
I see your earnest,
Your glitter visions, your radical hope.
I see you move with a twist in your heel,
A waltz between worry and courage,
A bold ballet of dreams.
I see your little visions, your treasure troves.
I see you,
Softened one,
Stitching these words to your heart,
Drawing the sun on our wings,
Innocent and radiant as ever.
I see you.

With love,

Butterfly

and though we breathed the same breaths
under different skies
and in different tongues
though the whispering birth
of one
was the death of another
both righteously tainted
both cut open
bleeding into me
and her
and us
and them
and god i wish there was no them
i know
i know i know i know  
the room was ink
and cheap leather
and there’s no room for god
in collars or letters
but have your bones been mended?
and
has the bleeding stopped?
because their hands
are still red
their wounds like honey
sticky
infinite
crystallized
so, my love
it’s time you learn to sew!
stitch up your broken!
sever the wicked!
make your mosaic!
and i’ll tattoo it on my sleeve
i’ll bottle it up
and swallow it
and when it sinks into the ocean of my body
i’ll think of them
and hope
that some day
under some sky
they can taste it too

Feathered —
Vulture, not Pheasant
The matted Creature seethes atop her squalid roost,
A nest of shameful relics at her talons
Jilted —
She does her futile bidding in secret
Deluded devotion cloaked in compulsion
She longs for the backbone of a coven
A colony to call home
Unburdened by the inevitable  
The indispensable
The inescapable
Ravenous —
Her bloodthirsty quest
For a kindred flame
That her brokenness can’t smother
That her shame can’t suffocate
It consumes her spirit from within
And ruptures from her mangled skin  
Violent —
Varmint spirit
Feasting on the fleshy decay of her victims
Bathing their corpses in her venom
She weeps poison
A filthy, putrid wet
Starving —
Though it may be true that amidst its scavenge,
The creature devours with madness
Do not be fooled; the Vulture is known to fast
For once the meat is eaten, the marrow quaffed  
And it’s only the corpus delicti that remains,
She’s reminded of her greatest craving:
An emaciated phantom,
Just skin and bones and stains

How deluded must you be
To try and compete with me
For all who look will see
Her heart belongs to me

How pathetic to be you
To only paint in blue
And obsessively pursue
A love that won’t come true  

We found your silly letter
I thought that you knew better
You thought that you could get her
Yet you never truly met her

How tragic is your plight
How ugly is your spite
How foolishly you write
How do you sleep at night?

I want the pulp of you
Your stringy white insides
I want the lattice of your creation  
To get stuck in my teeth
I want to savor every sliver of you  
The parts of you that need a warning
The versions left on the shelf
The bits of you that blend in with the fruit
But pack a punch
I want to relish in the chewy remnants of a skin you shed long ago
I want to peel back your orange shell
And taste the tender threads that hold you together
I want to drink your syrupy nectar
To gnaw away the sweet parts
Right down to the rind of you
And swallow the secret pomace of your heart