Sta.sh
zero hour
by ~sweet-sangria—after once upon a time
a pulse comes to
a halt, when the prison door opens
so wide,
stretches from thumb to toe
to where I run past the
stellar grounds.
and nails and bones are to be legends
in the sub-zero coal pit,
burning the chapel under my vague curves,
like on that mute zero hour in
the subway,
you in the barricading yellow seats.
like the violin of my back,
'love is a bribe to make a spine thinks it's a pillar'
and when thunder breaks
my floor, lips whispers
on lips,
the diamond the clitoris are anchors,
knees and thunder shatter
with the floor.
I read again:
"the bedroom orchestra;
drizzles in three seconds,
rainstorm in one,
I asked him to stay until seven."
from where
pear-shaped sounds fumbles and
heels of animals stumbles,
this is where it ends.
the pearls the clitoris are anchors
down on all four,
fireworks swallowing mothballs,
the baptism of spaces, watching bodies on suitcases,
put me through a sieve like
inching out
of your charades.
hush now,
hush now,
we rise after genocide—
