"Open hands are out of season.These days, everyone I knowtalks about coming at their heartswith..."

“Open hands are out of season.

These days, everyone I know

talks about coming at their hearts

with their fists.

I try to talk about myself that way:

violence and timbre,

teeth to pink underbelly,

all ache in a skin suit.

Bravado is a bad look on me–

the fabric doesn’t hang right.

I only bark at the things that scare me;

I was born to be a soft, bruising thing.

Like a fresh peach.

No turn of phrase could

suit me for the battlefield. Not when

the hunger I feel is less fire,

more symphony.

My heart hums like the thrall

of a cello.

It sings

and sings

and softens.”

- BRAVADO by Ashe Vernon