here to bloom

but how big must a puddle grow

before it is considered a pond?

when does a pond become a lake?

i’m drowning,

but i insist that i’m dry.

insist i couldn’t die.

now every single day is overtime.

is extra credit.

is derealized.

i’m drowning but i

wring my clothes

and promise that i’m dry.

it’s good for the flowers, they say.

that’s very good.

growing apart & still feeling the cavernous love

In the chapel,

in a bedroom,

in an alley late at night.

Always facing an inflated

godlike

version of some guy.

But as a girl you do what you need to survive.

You open wider, take the body.

Thank your father, you’ve been naughty.

2 Hail Marys, 20 lashings.

“I’ve been sent to punish you for daring to exist.

You will never know a love as meaningful as this.”

I’ve memorized

the lines

since I was 10.

From the Bible,

from the playbook,

from the magazines for men.

If you should mess it up, you’ll start again.

But, still, they only want

the women

they condemn.

I think that I’d have too much fun in hell.

With the pagans

and the hedonists

and sapphics there as well.

Purgatory seems the better fit

I can’t stand waiting in the corner,

but I do love being hit.

There’s not a torture you can prescribe

that I wouldn’t find

a way to like.

Every single second I’m alive

I’m sharpening an axe I’d like to grind.

“I was sent to punish you

for the way I was designed.

You will never know a love

that you fear more than mine.”

me in Paris,

pre-show Vivienne Westwood AW23/24

an hommage to Kate Moss