Excerpt: Bewilderness
Oppression echoes. Whispers of unsutured wounds form the earth. Prison poems bleed…
Read more →Anger grinds between furious fingertips, reshaping identity's labyrinthine lines, leaving a strangely transformed stranger.
I grind my anger between
The whitening tips of my
Forefinger and thumb –
Fingerprints furiously fornicating,
Lines changing shape
Like fleeting creases
In a bedsheet
From tomorrow my thumbprint
Will refuse to
Identify me
I might rage again
My fingertips may fuck once more
Their little labyrinths of lines
Sixtynining
Flatlining
Arching
Twisting
Twining
Fisting
Rearranging as they pull away
From one another
Turning me
Into someone I
Am not.