it was your
or my
week
with god.

we took turns having a healed leg, a crush

on the same
boy.

My small hips
Unfeminine
My height
Unfeminine
My broad shoulders
Unfeminine
My blonde, short eyelashes
Unfeminine
My straight legs
Unfeminine

my strength
Unfeminine
my intelligence
Unfeminine
my strong voice
Unfeminine

something about the cold drew me to you
the temperature of your bedroom kept me there
"i always liked the cold" you'd say
i wondered why
now I know it's because you craved inseparable proximity
you required love that i couldn't give, though i wanted to so desperately

you turned me into ice
because as soon as you made me melt
i cracked
and ran

the father
who observes
the brain

parenthetically

as a period
of fasting,

the sister
of extra
letters  (the mortal

of the story), and the mother

who keeps me
sober  (cook with hands

you want to eat)

I like to destroy things with
an anger
that only comes up
when the thing i really wish to
destroy is
myself.