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dime
January 19, 2024
flush the bottom of my ribs
with a color new to me
breathe life into me, breeze
tell me something sweet
and i’ll give your eye a chance
a time when the sun falls so late
the night is the darkest it's ever been
and my baby just can’t breathe
tell me something just for all of us
wring me of all my will
all my blood,
so even just for a moment;
i’ll bite my tongue again
my eyes live to be my greatest eulogy
and even then i could never say
i saw it all coming my way
i never said i wanted it all to come my way
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Loss in the eyes of feminine gaze is a cacophany, muted and true. Scintillating, raw, and a paradox in its age, losing a part of oneself is followed by a pulsing silence. In "dime," I attempt to capture such a silence.