each night she kneels among the flowers
her skin flays as she howls to the moon
laying eggs filled with contempt
her fangs seep into stone,
until the morn
when she stands at the stove
waiting for what the night
will thaw in her next
Kristin Garth & Pink Plastic House a tiny journal
womanchild sonneteer
each night she kneels among the flowers
her skin flays as she howls to the moon
laying eggs filled with contempt
her fangs seep into stone,
until the morn
when she stands at the stove
waiting for what the night
will thaw in her next