October 2024

The angle of the sun does not confuse them—
once the bees find the rosemary, they cannot
forget it is there. They return to it out of instinct.

So, too, the animal inside each of us returns to things.
I knew it was there, the fuzzy-edged spot in
my brain and, no matter how I tried, I

understood too much about these tumors.
Every…

Here we converge toward the only star.
Let’s fall in, love of mine,
let’s drop our oars
down to where night doesn’t exist.
 

When the blood turned pink I should’ve known,
should’ve set my quiver for meat, downed
the dandelion greens. Instead I climbed into

a pot, added salt, became a handful
of small bells. Undulated to recall myself
as sea. Underwater the siren’s cry is safe—

on land, my violet eyes undeniable. I wanted the alarm
to drown my thoughts…