Knotted

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