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envy is the only deadly sin that’s no fun for the sinner this makes sadness seem more like a tradition
I try to find small comforts purple clover growing in the long grass a yellow spider on the windowsill I am less horrible than I could be I’ve never set a house on fire never thrown a firstborn off a bridge still my whole life I answered every cry for help with a pour with a turning away I’ve given this coldness many names thinking if it had a name it would have a solution thinking if I called a wolf a wolf I might dull its fangs I carried the coldness like a diamond for years holding it close near as blood until one day I woke and
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I’m becoming more a vessel of memories than a person it’s a myth that love lives in the heart it lives in the throat we push it out when we speak when we gasp we take a little for ourselves in books love can be war-ending a soldier drops his sword to lie forking oysters into his enemy’s mouth in life we hold love up to the light to marvel at its impotence
Milk splashes into a bowl and coronates itself with a crown of droplets. I too have been trying to exalt my own body, but there is no switch to flip for this. I fumble toward grace like a vine searching for a wall.
I wish he were here now he could be here this cave is big enough for everyone look at all the diamonds
I used to believe my father’s umbrella caused the rain he was so powerful nobody has turned out to be as powerful as I believed my father to be
One day I will crack open underneath the field mushrooms. One day I will wake up in someone else’s bones.
I always wanted to be a saint but I thought I’d be one of the miserable ones sainted by pain burnt alive inside a brazen bull instead I weep openly at obnoxious beauty cello music comes in from blocks away and I lose it completely there is a word for these fits of incomprehensible delight I said it last night when my mouth was full of cake
