I dreamed you
came to me
and wanted to tattoo the night sky
on my body

Starting small, you
cut into me
and marked the constellations
across my skin

Pegasus on my pinkie
Cassiopeia on my collarbone
Lyra on my lip
Hydra on my heart

After that, you
swept across me –
mapped the nebulae until
I was full

Bored suddenly, you
peered over me
hid your inks and left
the open wounds

unfinished and incomplete:
a partial galaxy




In this half of my brain

I am
emotionally responsible
in fact and
circumstance and

though there is also some sobering and permeating
disgust which creeps into my thoughts and eradicates my curiosity

I am content
I have not wondered
I have not wandered


the draught seeps through the cracks
under the door to the other half

I am trying to keep the door shut
as I lean with my back firmly
against it


the vibration from the other side
is tickling up my legs and
thundering through
barreling against my ribs

like pebbles kicked
through a drainpipe

I am full and empty
all at once
my insides fall away
I refill.

The other half is desire
thick and sweet
but also venom

It stops up the flow
of my life, and I am driven
by images
and want to knock down, and
push up the stairs

I lift fruit to my mouth and
suck the vinegar of rot
between my teeth

I laughed at the obvious daggers in men’s smiles
hubris smeared across my body like tar
desire is a false key
that opens nothing
cut my throat, why don’t you


tell me to listen, and I will
bite off your tongue