I bought a rose glass, it is mine now I own it
I bought it with money I spent money it is full
of money it is full of rot/
ten boys lined up at the door she has made
a list she invites them in the heart is full
of mold, of leaves, of thickening.
there is a mad genius in the blue spruce tree there is a cat trapped there it is crying it is afraid to go down. the needles
I bought I have sewn myself an image, made
doll made cackles
up the magpie talks
a child voice, the metallic cry
licked the metal licked the boys they are crushing
her she is licking the blood off are we not beasts we are
not beasts are we
lie down with us we lie down with beasts you always
come up as the beast with blue marbles for eyes for
pink marbles for eyes
you bought it with your eyes you bought it why
do you inhabit this place, though
I have smudged, as if sludge
held our bones together as if the sky
melted into your eyes wide eyes a rose
licked stamen licked pollen
salmon pink. sunset finger
grapefruit center. sweet, bitter the beast's eyes,
flash in the head
light. hear you give great head. hear its barely
like a mouth at all. here its barely like you're there
at all but then you're always there aren't you always
there just there, always there though I did not welcome you.
by Denise Jarrott, from NYMPH
