poetics

i see it dripping all over me

covered in transparent yellow

sweet like mango

sticky like an addiction

the sugar rush it gives

they smell it from miles

they come over me.

finding me through my shedding skin

a flying chameleon of emotions glued with wings i made myself.

transmuted into a be. ing of person.

they used to hate bees

cause they are all women

but now

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“Being able to say ‘this is who I am’ when everything else feels uncertain, flimsy, prone to dissolution, may be the greatest comfort we have. Is anything more seductive, more empowering?/ To be alive is to subject oneself to the reality of being permeable/ so, while I welcome the pleasure of those moments when I feel like myself, I don’t think I w

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It's nice

after dinner

to walk down to

the beach

and find

the biggest

thing on earth

relatively calm...