yet, moving with my left foot forward
images that scream magenta tints
this page, this page, may crumble,
fade,
catch fire!
something’s getting too close to the flame
the hairs on my skin are in a quarrel
debating on direction
I am chaotic when the sun floods
…think I’ve told you this before
disheveled when the moonlight ricochets
rather than, dissolve my fleshy membranes
i am a moon sucking, pine backbone, lightning cavity
thing
it, me, I, we
all at once, so much, out of so little…
if I were to ask it to go away
what if I were
by Paris Jessie