every day is a day for a pagan suckled in a creed outworn
we’re your family now
I want to sit up front with my new siblings, eat animal crackers, and not react
actually, I have nothing urgent to do
and no one I’d like to do it with
“these are not pernicious winds” / well thank glob for that
women stagger past, clutching babies in blankets. it’s not even that cold anymore.
the finger that bears my carnelian ring, itches.
bitches. everyone says bitches all the time
and what a beautiful ring
where would you go, asked my aunt.
Italy, I said.
I got a pap smear in Hell’s Kitchen
(just in case it’s love jk)
I knew someone who had an abortion when she was 18 and one of the movies I recommended to her while she recuperated in bed was Born In Flames
and no, I would never say “it was a void I always carried with me”
the whale’s blowhole a baby’s fontanelle
font, a spring, that soft weak spot on the top of the head a portal
it closes and you live inside until your exit, when it
opens up and releases you back to the orphanage
of celestial surrogacy
it takes me back to a beautiful time when I wasn’t alive