BACK
Breasts and eggs
There was a time I thought I’d have to choose
between my breasts and my eggs
or between working on breaststrokes
or stroking breasts
But here I am, bare feet on a cool stone floor
separating shells of eggs with the webbing of my toes.
The smell of bubbling hot oil curling between us
A life built not from repetition but from bent lines.
There was a time I thought I’d have to choose
between my breasts and my eggs
or between working on breaststrokes
or stroking breasts
But here I am, bare feet on a cool stone floor
separating shells of eggs with the webbing of my toes.
The smell of bubbling hot oil curling between us
A life built not from repetition but from bent lines.
BACK
My dance is domesticated
My spine is bent
In fractured white noise
Is how my time was spentBACK
ALL BECAUSE I LOVE YOU THIS MUCH
i became a splattering uncaged