I am named for the parsley my mother swallowed by the bushel, to try and flush her womb of me. I was not so easily got rid of.
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When I cloud-gaze, I forget I’m a single human in the great big world. I focus on the flowers in the sky, and I melt.
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If each grieving woman could hurl worlds down, the worlds would not stand long.
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She whispers tales of angry daughters / and mad wives, / of stolen children / and disrupted lives…
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rule me worthy, Lordly Flock, / fly low and cheerfully carouse.
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Skeleton Woman bared the fisherman, slipped a finger into his warmth, retrieved the heart, clasped it to her core.
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You want to say, they aren’t nightmares. You say, “I haven’t been alone in years.”
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I can only remember how pale she was, how I wondered what weights she was carrying in her soul to bow her head so low.
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our skin is cold cast iron, we don’t wear / precious stones, we stash them in the / toes of our stockings like penance
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Within the tower there was no want for anything but soft gentleness and simple fire.
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Muttering, / she handed me / grinning flame. / I did not know / its will.
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I would have a word / tucked under my tongue / that would crack a man's bones / until they splintered through flesh.
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for every nettled night / there was a bullet of / lipstick blooming
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She thinks of / ripe tomatoes on the sill, an oven full of fruit simmering, / a fire on the verge of blaze.
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They looked up at her, palms out, mouths stained with chocolate. Behind them, the mailbox stood half-eaten.
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The snakes aren't as bad as everyone says. You didn’t expect this: / I can tell from your expression.
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I’d like for you to cast an enchantment on me. To other women, I will appear as I am. Ordinary. Human. But to men, I will be hideous. A monster.
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The witches warned them that the homeworld had become a wild place, and that the sun and moon had become dim.
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