how could this glowing feminine fur have once disgusted me? How could I have believed the lies?

Afterlife = No Gender

“Why (on earth),” I ask, “is it so important (on earth)?”

[This photograph] forms part of a personal study on the role of the female muse in art, and how her personal identity is often twisted and erased to serve the (usually male) artist.

& felt the crashes and

collisions between stars in the galaxy

of my spine & lulled cerberus to sleep

Eighteen, wondering when this body stopped being your

own. Wondering which of these bruises count.

cavities swelling in the liminality that sits
between the sofa and family portrait

we found that sickness is a hole that is sometimes caused by holes, leaving what was once whole, unwhole.

Our eyes avert hastily,
even desperately,
from the deteriorating, the difficult