a lilac field laid cradled by the winds pressing
arm, my toes curling into the rain-soaked soil.
linen whites stained with honey-peppermint tea and
smeared cinnamon mud.
      id drag my fingers through my scalp
ripping chunks of hair out, inch in my nails to meet my muscles,
leaking blood. sob the raindrops you dropped, scream till' hoarse and dry under the
coated sky, aged and ashen with thunderclouds.
    id starch my sheets and paint my face,
stretching my mouth to edges with brimming chalk teeth,
tie perky bows into my buns entrailing my
aching whole,
darling,

quandiu me diligis

but amongst the lavender blossoms,
sandy smooth moth wings
translucent in bosky moonlight, just a fingertip from
disintegrating into a powdered misty. for now, the sage creature leaves
to tickle another woman's nose and spread another
evensong.
my damp toes find a
burgundy-blood apple,
placed neatly at the edge of the field.
and i take a bite.