poetry. folded into my back pocket dark garnet pages are left frayed and friable like leaves on the bottom of a teacup
poetry. stancion of formed glass emptied of its torch by breakage each shard a grain of obsidian sand
poetry. lamp of a great beast structure struggling to find its way through the labyrinth Minotaur myths blackness camera obscura to a feast of souls who's meat is dusty tomes skeletons in tombs choking on their crusts of parchment owls
poetry. oil of anointing for to wrap the Christian alive as he burns in the garden of Caligula
i am poetry. all of these am i. a paper soul clipped from an origami bird's wing frayed like a homemade leaf but never
*empty
Thanks to Nat Lipstadt and Shaunna Harper for the inspiration