мягкий знак
by Nicole Yun Wang
Everyone in the world wants to eat me.
In Springtime,
they barter with rocks for my body
Standing on the table,
I pull out my teeth with a wrench
and bury sex and bone in the old rusted tool box.
In the year of pricking my fingers on thorns,
I ask myself did flowers begin to eat meat.
I watch the bodies slip into each other and calcify like coral.
So sad how they bleach white in Australia.
Even the stars are in love with us
Little pearl-like sinners; they fetishize our bodies
We burn like candles in the wake of the newborn baby.
Birds hash out songs like water from a cracked metal colander.
I stand on the corner and think of how they only glide in soft angles.
I cannot see the sky