Rivers edge


Like a locket given on your eighth birthday has

hinges with two sides

aniseed draped in purple sees

the sybil of her symmetry and dissonance

opposites in yoked embryo

she can flash her smile, men will wither

just as a second later, curled on floor she pounds

her golden head to cold tile and whispers

what is wrong with the world for their like?

if they knew, if they only knew

it makes her feel everything including herself as spectacle

a roar of machina and iron needing oiling

the grind drowning out truth’s admonishment

never substantial always fleeting

like a secret arching over people

catching shadows with broken light

if you knew, if you only knew

saw what I saw when I revealed

myself under the wattage and the neon

a girl of scars a girl of perfection a girl with nubs for wings and no


she is standing up only by the effort of her will

she is falling down only by the collapse of her theatre

all around people lend arms and mouths

let me suck you clean

let me bend to your desire

she despises weakness

in herself, in others

she despises coldness

in herself, in others

how to reconcile the two

polar stars doing battle?

the man who will limp to her side

bend on knee, bequeath himself

is ever lost to her before he has spoken

for she is a woman who responds to the sharp hand

slapping out of her, the mercury of her rage

girls with crossed legs never display

they are always stronger for the secrets they bare

children of horror selling themselves

by river’s edge

as one of those girls she lay down with a boy

they even talked before he turned wet around the eyes

sought refuge within her make

over head the skies were swollen and gray

leaching color from them both until

they could have been siblings or obelisks

faces on Easter Island turned to see


she knew then, if she didn’t change she’d want to slit

herself in two, cleaving seeds into pearls

leaving the part that felt too much

underneath earth

buried far too well for discovery

inheriting the ire of those

who first taught her to fear and loathe

she would burn down their little whickered effigies

falsehoods, notions, everyone thought she was

underneath the gleaming varnish

underneath the madder root temple

two red tongues lashing creation

butterfly effect lusting shorelines

with honeycombed rage

you think you can describe my metal?

she roared with closed mouth of flowers

if you look closely sometimes on

a hennaed moon you can see a glimpse

of the tender cover of her

seeking refuge in

bare and leaning trees

some are born without need for hunt

theirs is the invisible lingua

ever searching in rhythmic chant;

surely, someone must


better than



For Manon. (Photo without permission ;))

29 thoughts on “Rivers edge

  1. I am unashamedly admitting to tears. Incredibly insightful and achingly beautiful—there is only one queen of thorns, who apparently sees all

  2. “a girl of scars a girl of perfection a girl with nubs for wings and no/calcium” This poem is a heated knife that burns away the infection and cauterizes the wounds on my soul

  3. Maybe a true friend does just that. See things in ourselves we do not see? I wonder. I have been betrayed by some I thought were ‘true’ friends but ultimately I do believe a true friend is a gift and someone who holds you up when the water rises too high.

  4. Wow. Amazing. You are both lucky to have such a friendship. Your words come right from your heart- that is obvious. Just beautiful ❤

  5. She’s so worth it. She’s the sister i always longed for, we’re so alike except she’s got better legs and could drink me under the table 😉 seriously she’s family, i think even wolves and antelope and leopards adore her.

  6. She is worth it, definitely. I’m bigger than her so she might not have me with the drink, lol. 😄

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