My Girlfriends We Are Twenty-Seven
        for Carolina Ebeid and Shamala Gallagher

What a staring life,

honey food in rings / honey rings with fruit discs / honey rings without planets,

trash of milk & honey in a yellow-gold-bee-box for my stomach of cows,

good morning.

I read pages

stained with broken tiger fingers from an aluminum bag

& I think of my friends!

O bride, grass blades lit with fireflies are the candles on your wedding cake!

You are iron curlicues on a headboard, breaking heads with calligraphy.

My other friend with her red peeled self, who coaxes the soul out like a splinter,

you are a dove in a cat's mouth / angel of a girl on her back / killed angel stuffed in a pillow,

& my friends for now we live in this state of Texas

& its lone star / five metal directions reigned in & collapsed in a field of bluebonnets

Tweet

Copyright © 2019 Leanna Petronella All rights reserved
from The Imaginary Age
Pleiades Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission