parasitoids have goals too
Thought about self harming while eating
my partner out, arepas at the club,
a snack before bed, scrambled eggs
on toast on tostada on a layer of aguacate,
tomatoes from the garden, cucumbers,
pan dulce, mango, cheerios with orange juice -
Am I the only one who does that?
this is to say my bodymind is hungry
and itches for feeling, even amidst pleasure,
sensations electric, tangy, tongue tied on a hand full
of sweets. And every time I ask myself
about the blue flowers in the back of my
mind, the curtains drawn up over memory,
how to compost the bouquet, the girl-self,
snake adorned, the fungal mind leading
ants to the mother, on slaughter
lane, I take a turn - the brain fog like
cotton in the mouth. I take two sips
of an inconsequential thing and feel my
body slip away just like that.
Just like that my body inconsequential.
A thing. A snake. A bouquet. A bed.
I stop asking myself if I’m the only one.
Doesn’t matter either way. The river runs
In four directions: source, sea, sink, swim.
first published by Stone of Madness Press
