Blood-orange flame lights
yr path toward petty concerns:
Godliness // supermarket specials //
whether Death rents a condo
in the province of the living
—dig through planted netherworlds
for scraps / Lap blood
like cat’s milk / Pretend to see Adam catch
the night train from Ealing
to Eden—fashion a crown of
feather & soil / Think back to 2-4-1
breakfast specials—recall the day you
came home to find the lack / Pick a
card from the deck & say / we are either
Divine or Deadmeat
yr path toward petty concerns:
Godliness // supermarket specials //
whether Death rents a condo
in the province of the living
—dig through planted netherworlds
for scraps / Lap blood
like cat’s milk / Pretend to see Adam catch
the night train from Ealing
to Eden—fashion a crown of
feather & soil / Think back to 2-4-1
breakfast specials—recall the day you
came home to find the lack / Pick a
card from the deck & say / we are either
Divine or Deadmeat
✱✱✱
| Sophie E. Moss is a writer, lover, human, mess. When she isn’t searching for the perfect leather jacket, she writes essays for Luna Luna Magazine and poetry for all the people she used to be. Some of her writing has appeared in After the Pause, Dirty Chai, Quail Bell Magazine, and elsewhere. You can find her on Twitter @Sophiedelays. |
