One Night We Drove Through Yellowstone
I dreamt of a white bear last night,
like the ones in the rainforests
of Alaska. Landlocked, we dreamt
of whispering to them, shaking off
one country for another,
wildness and snow-swell
and the cold jaws of Canada.
Instead, we drove east,
straight into Wyoming,
brandy-soaked and wind-drunk,
forgot cardinal directions. This was unwise.
You didn’t like the way I tempted
the high water, the rush of maybe
you’ll drown me, the way I liked
to tease. Liked to sleep in the tall grass.
Carved maps into your body
and mine. Called for the bears, come, come,
lost somewhere in Yellowstone.
I let you geyser through me.
It’s true. These were gorgeous mistakes.
I want to make them again
& again & again.
One Night We Drove Through Arkansas
I taste the rest of my life
on your teeth. My body was always
better at knowing than me. I was thinking
of how we left it -
all over the floor, spit & blood
on knuckles, jewel-toned toes,
femurs split; (my body) promise.
Angel boy, archipelago eyes, people like us
always have something to get over.
But we don’t gotta talk about it.
One night we drove through Arkansas.
The air sat heavy on the rim
of late June. I dreamt about a train
that night, pummeling through an empty mine.
I think there was some mystery to it,
something to solve. The phone
was ringing. My dress was dirty.
You were there too,
with your cloud of needles,
rope-ties for hands. You were blue-scaled,
hissing, copperheaded.
But we don’t gotta talk about it.
I woke with sheets twisted
around my throat
like my body was trying
to make a noose out of sleep. That was when
you said you couldn’t trust me
with it
(my body)
anymore. My favorite pain
is when you make me vanish
all at once, even before
I can take my tights off. Gouge out my ink
all over the floor.
But we don’t gotta talk about it.
Flower Moon
I’m wondering if you can still feel despite the nerve damage I'm wondering
how to cast a shadow puppet of a ghost if a ghost can have a shadow
I'm wondering why my teeth don't fit inside my mouth
why your knuckles fit perfect beneath my cheekbone I'm wondering
how to silence the rain how to catch a bullet between my fingers
how to forget about your fingers I'm wondering about the bruise
around the moon if the spring sky blues & aches for one more lip
of cold light I'm wondering how to stop the bleeding I'm wondering
what you could have done, didn't.