extrasensory

barefoot

beneath these

skirts

less an attempt

to maintain

workplace

informality than

it is a sensory

deprivation

thing

see, i

gotta feel

like i haven’t

stopped

feeling

this is one

of those

monday morning

attempts at

unwinding

& a little

work

avoidance

as necessary

a little

extrasensory

deprivation

thing

can’t stop

that tantalized

spineshiver

when i feel

him

reaching out

to trace

contours, so i

tremble

& curl

purr a little

push back

against a

vibe or

wavelength

like it’s a

solid

& it is

oddly

solid enough

so somehow

the smoke

clears a little

but i’m

okay

with that

today

piano fire

catwalk

what might
befall
behappen
& become

o best beloved

to this
wildest
of all
wild animals

who walks
by himself

all places
alike
unto him

let’s make a
little magic

a woman
wise
maybe as
wise as
a cat is
wild

maybe
a little
wild
as well

o best beloved

hear
attend
& listen

to a little
singing
magic

of wild tales
in wild woods

and if i say
a word
of praise

as you
walk away
in all
places

will you
come
into this
cave?

and if
i coo &
compliment
you a time
or two

will you
curl
beside
this fire?

and if
you get
a word
or three
from me

clever
cat

will you
keep
your
wild way

when
the moon
wakes
& night
shakes
wild
trees

but still
stay
a little
in the
day

anyway?

kitestrung

i knit
the silence
with these
fingertips

or try to
make
something
outta

soft nothing

unwords

all your
little
implosions

but i can't
knit so it
unravels
& i feel

kitestrung

to you
as you

float off
toward
all those

empty
spaces

so i
watch sky
& try

with my
feet tight
on earth

tonight.

scrumptious fishy nougat

trail

i twitch &
these branches
heavy with
summer
leaves

rustle
in the night

betray
position

every
sense a
new nerve
ending

ears
scan for your
usual

frequencies

pupils
contract
& dilate
grope
through
darkness

for
another
glimpse
wary
but

wanting

that
new color
that
flash of light

or

a low
growl
& hot

baited
breath

marionette

awake
too early
all the day's air
already
deflated

gasp
gulp &
sob somehow

simultaneously

can't tear
this wretched
head from
a hot bed

hollowness
too heavy
to move or
move on or
move away

& i just want to
move again
with purpose
move like
moving matters

but i fight myself
to my feet
for the day
anyway

tie slow
strings for
these marionette
motions

wooden
painted limbs
clatter & clamber
with external
purpose

an act of
movement
the farce
of mo(u)rning

routine

ceiling tiles

ceiling tiles

fighting kind by ainslie wills

cool out by matthew e. white & natalie prass

wild horses by bishop briggs

not above love by alunageorge

tundra by sleepmakeswaves

die young by sylvan esso

let me down easy by gang of youths

midnight hour by teischa

deep wide ocean by the jezabels

never gonna change by broods

ghostwriter

he looks like
he's been reading

poetry
all day

all mine

& i'm converted
more to a

show versus tell
theory

when his hair
falls into &
over his eyes

as he
focuses

the tip

of his tongue
in his teeth

starts

all my
little word
heartattacks

an image
of stubblescratch

raw along
the side of my
neck

all morning
accompanies

the ghosts
of fingertips

soft along
the sides of my
thighs

need his low
rumblings

to echo around
chest walls
pressed up against mine

or how shoulders might
shake still, when
he holds on tight &

laughs into my hair

& i could
draw diagrams
in disarming detail

if he ever
asked me to

but i just write

just
right

and he
will never see
what he

does to the mind of me

& we talk
of obligation

as if anyone else

were a good
enough reason

for doing

or

not doing