Requirements for Insertion
In a book I love, the childless queen rides before
her troops, reins in a gloved hand. Feet in the air,
I’m half-naked, shivering between sheets of paper.
Last year, my sister also raised both knees for her
dead to be cleaned out. After winter, winter—hope
is a pebble in a horseshoe. With rubber hands,
the queen parts my legs. Long live December.
As long as the horse lives, the horse bears her.
you’ll feel nothing
the doctor says
I feel nothing
cold inside me
I’m partial to promises
I can unmake
like beds this time
of year is cold
and between words
she holds my hand
good girl she says
Queen in her only
Queen with her only
Queen since her only
Queen near her only
Queen past her only
Queen of her only
Queen for her only
sister did you feel yourself break into a crevasse / if I
loved you I wouldn't ask / you to accept my metaphor
for a loss / beyond understanding / two bodies / share
one thought / a ring of knives slips inside and I’m wed
to volition / If I loved / you broke / through one kind
of womanhood / I hereby consent to dab blood off /
your sheets / am I less fortunate / a common thought
no absences are alike / blank mattress / unmarked page
apology beginning if /snow melts in air / was it snow
In the paper bed, a rip
shaped like a fingertip.
I drove myself here,
I’ll drive myself home.