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Picture
Picture
Picture

r kay


aubade knowing you hate photographs 
                                                            for g
​

Because you have a body this memory has no sound.
Was it because perfection is a myth or was it fear
of capture? I can only use one sense at a time. The pills 
I take remind me to take other pills. Sometimes I know
things without thinking. When you fall asleep against me
it is a different kind of breath. Grasping your hand is one
way to be alive. I take it. I wish you asked for more  
than to be held correctly. You’re too pretty to not have
everything you want. You want to raze this world
& I want everyone to be as kind to you as you deserve 
—are these the same? This morning, as you slept,
I faltered at the doorway & thought of everything
I wish I could change for you. It’s unbearable,
the way the light hits you perfectly & I let it.

​death asks what i’ve been doing with my hands
i pick flowers
i didn’t plant
pale pink erupts
from fuchsia
they shouldn’t
grow here
i never asked
for a body & yet
it’s controversial
just yesterday
i let the buttercup
stain my nails
i am always dragging
something under
my cuticle
tooth bookmark
crutch of a just
smoked joint
when i touch
you i want
to know what
i’m made of
when i touch
you i want
to know what
i’m leaving
behind
 

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  • HOME
  • ISSUE 12
  • SUBMISSIONS
    • Submission Form
  • ABOUT
  • LITTLE BLACK BOOK
    • A NOTE FROM THE EDITORS
  • SHOP