motherhood

Remember when we were seabirds?
Bobbing between the tilt of waves
on water as green as sea glass
time made blurry on the surface and smooth.

Or maybe we were sea buttons
because we didn’t know of wings
yet, rather tying them around our waists
like the frills of jellyfish
immature versions

and I am meant to long for motherhood
or whatever else we wish to call this, but the
movement of waves calls me on and
I am still wet, encased in
the womb.


"How to recognize three subtle steps a narcissist takes before invading your life"

My computer knows my
love life better
than my mother.

I get suggested reads like
"How to recognize three
subtle steps a narcissist takes
before invading your life",

like narcissism is a battle plan
and this is some kind of
Mesopotamian epic

only I am the narcissist—

she's a goddess of death,
the kind that watches
clouds from bed

and sees dead chickens.


thinking of immortality

The quote says “it will 
never go away 
completely” but the words were spider-silk thin and 
I mis-saw it, maybe thinking of immortality 
or rather the cyclical movement of things, as,

I will never go away completely.