Trick Blanchfield is an Indianapolis author, artist + immaculate shade.
The Joker took my story literal: a patient martyr in the mirror. In situ, I see a silhouette with heaving breasts,
By Trick Blanchfield3 years ago in Poets
You used to rehearse in the mirror as I'd wait, filling in your skin from the bed. If I could give a name to each muscle
You are my every influence within this quick Nolita morning; a faded rose sky turns my fingertips into crystal caverns that cradle warmth into a secret I can hold in my hand.
By Trick Blanchfield4 years ago in Poets
I'm walking on broken ground. An acrid tincture squeezes blood from my tongue to leave me muted in situ. Waiting to be usurped.
– one way in, two ways out; shoulder to shoulder but eyes never touch – in gilded passageways where people take pictures of shit;
In words I am an heiress yet sweet, so sweetly I come undone again knees dirty before God I took the blue pill tumbled smoothe in chrom(r)