3/1/24 10:48pm

3/1/24 10:48pm

I’ve Grown Feet This Month

and when my teeth become too brittle to take on shards of ice, I will rely on those who whittled them down, suckling at citrus from the vines of motherhood, beckoning a wife, a woman whose lips curl in agony but showcase content, like a curtain closing each breath, the burning on my knees leading me to water, I remember this, I know these chips, I taste this wire wrapped tightly around each stem, fingering the seeds like little tiny bones, a man in the corner, telling us he has lived here all his life, grown to foot the shores and eye the birds, swallow shards whole, because they will melt in the end

— ODH