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Lace bone beast
POEMS & other FAIRYTALES FOR WICKED GIRLS

Here is emptiness. Here is a mouth after a recent excavation, black with soot, devoid of kisses. Here are hands, trembling against the soft ache of morning, here are eyes, wet, wide, half-full of sky and loneliness. Here is belly, back, femur, spine, ragged and smooth all at once, all at once. Here are dreams, ink black and speckled, lost behind the eyes. Here is a muted elegy, crow’s feet feathered over the eyes like lace. Here are the last strains of a dirge, wild, discordant, free. 

INQUIRE

Remember, 
everything that matters
comes slowly, the teeth, 
the bravery, the strength, 
the softness.