By Danielle Pafunda
Where you stud your huntsman belt where you carry with you the burden words for celestial bodies exits no nunh I grab / I grasp night air almost a yard of damp fiber ache to braid into rope is lasso is / is the O quite large enough to encompass but tight behold does my O tolerate the stars' loose sword and heat as well I wasn't / kidding I was knowing / I knew a lot about softening to capacity and then / the belief that every day must include pain might sometimes be hypnotized fledgling speckled sand between thirsty junipers fluttering hurt or new hurt or new say it again spell it say it in the careless raked mirror fresh downlike fur pull my daughter's hair so she'll know how not to live
or
crash my body / on some rocks I chill and call my dad / to mind I really love him not because he's a god a lot of people know / he's a god they were there when I was born of woman and also the gold crud that issued from his / joy, I have always made men joyful then disappointed their arms the hilts and the dates of their hilts and jilted nunh I was never so / jilted I made them dislike me capsize me I swam home deep through thick crust layers of home you think it's solid but then you soften and the ground softens to you underground the day under the grave under the meadow that shifts its weight beside the road to the sea that everyone and river ferries avec the island murder wind mountain scree running down my cheeks crumble a slew of things keep going back to stone / get stoned / wonder if anyone loves you like: does anyone love me the way I want to feel it right now the sun doesn't burn this place down and change its name for all the shit we talk about it getting dark now our corner private our sheer greens and aqua travel against the night's buck the harbor's fluttering eyelids don't mean sleep / pick sleep over / pick a tarantula off the low beam where ceiling meets habitat sin ride a little pony all the way to town clasp fur to cheek clasp hands not a clapping no one wants your praise tonight it's a quiet ode for us who got no nurses on duty for the still-white failure skin and bone for a long song I'm singing hardwrong with my hands up up up the back of your shirt buttons taking / I'm not willing to spend time here but neither am I sure where to take you it turns out every party is a sacrifice my tender friends are scared my thighs are shook where empty my cup comes back filled with a bright taste I'm certain I like it in my name is salt my tender friend's name is dusk we come from the center and we sell / destined labor
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charm them with your stylish magic charm me think about without wanting to how easy to / too easy it would be / to burn yourself among sleepers not care if anyone dreams speak your name into the whorl while a crummy band lights up feeling and your people lay out to either side a channel of how you be and become remembered / remember none of that is here now a cult you member I've got my hands up what looks like prayer might as well reach into the dirt grab my wrist and I'll grab yours back and haul and haul like hell