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Tanisha Jackland
Poems
Oct 2016
Little Death
I left this flesh
for the bounty of
the gold soul
Paper womb
bends like reeds
the pressure kneads
me into this fetal thing
I have gorged myself
into a block of
mucous and spit
I stew
in immortality soup
open my everlasting eyes
and rise out of
the black of nothing
with wings of fire
glorious
in transparent skin
Written by
Tanisha Jackland
111/F/is still getting old.
(111/F/is still getting old.)
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