Lizzy Burnam 🐞

half-dead woman / other / coquette, I was you / like a compass 
that won’t stop spinning / 2 sleeves full of butter knives : waiting 
for the backhanded blow to blow back with your own / grackle / 
thrasher / vampire finch / myopic photographs sorted in sequence 
like the years gone by / half-alive / no thanks to the Chardonnay 
and the dead-bolted honeymoon / operator? operator? / where 
does your spirit go when you’ve known not good, nor evil, 
but the formless indigo of a love that was / both / tu quoque! 
tu quoque! / what swans and wolves have in common / since merely 
the ability / to love is always admirable, no matter the fallacious hand / 
rooting through the compost bin for the ripest unbruised apple 
/ hunger is a kind of sacred sin / the churning of your belly (is god) /
 the lump in your throat (is god) / the vertigo / god, coquette, I was 
you : picky as a vulture, vagabond of the heart with a leased-out 
mind / addicted to the self-indulgence in self-castigation / again / 
a gain / your sacrosanct ritual of making a scene / sad as a vacant lot / 
sour girl, azote incarnate / and I do not blame you / bottle-fed 
on sweet blue blood and your dad’s dad’s taste in rock and roll 
/,,,,, / look, you did this to yourself / so you can un-do it / can’t you?
like a mesh metal stent army-crawling to the collapsed artery