girl
Scoop my fingers out,
lick the honey off
Deep inside the comb
Mewling from deep inside your chest
So sweet is your hand gutting the corpus
Legs like Celtic knots tied by boy scouts
A warm pulsing
rhythmic,
blood pooling just below mouths
Buried inside our cores
the soft parts of flesh
The wet center of a flower
lick the honey off
Deep inside the comb
Mewling from deep inside your chest
So sweet is your hand gutting the corpus
Legs like Celtic knots tied by boy scouts
A warm pulsing
rhythmic,
blood pooling just below mouths
Buried inside our cores
the soft parts of flesh
The wet center of a flower
How to Have Sex Without Gender
Reach inside me
and do not think "uterus"
Carve new definitions on my ribcage
Rid yourself of previous vernacular,
let's call what's in between my thighs the sigh I make when you touch me there
and my pronouns the way my name sounds in the back of your mouth
Alphabet spine,
the arch of my back rounds out new vowels
My teeth suck at your flesh
as I offer you my breast bone like ripening fruit
Flesh that rises to meet you with heavy breaths
Blood pulse and sweat pools as nerve endings meet
Bodies that have been learning to touch bodies since we first begat
We are less holy beings,
more grab bag party favor creations
Car crash twisted metal together limbs testing all the different uses for hamstrings and hands
See what tongues and toes can feel like
As I allow you inside me and hold you between my hips
and let you nest there
I
They not she
and do not think "uterus"
Carve new definitions on my ribcage
Rid yourself of previous vernacular,
let's call what's in between my thighs the sigh I make when you touch me there
and my pronouns the way my name sounds in the back of your mouth
Alphabet spine,
the arch of my back rounds out new vowels
My teeth suck at your flesh
as I offer you my breast bone like ripening fruit
Flesh that rises to meet you with heavy breaths
Blood pulse and sweat pools as nerve endings meet
Bodies that have been learning to touch bodies since we first begat
We are less holy beings,
more grab bag party favor creations
Car crash twisted metal together limbs testing all the different uses for hamstrings and hands
See what tongues and toes can feel like
As I allow you inside me and hold you between my hips
and let you nest there
I
They not she
✱✱✱
| Sage Shemroske (they/them) is a twenty something poet living in the Chicago area. They've been writing ever since their therapist asked them to please write your feelings down. They tweet @witchxtits and occasionally update their blog yaimakeart.wordpress.com |
