tea bone
My backbone is laces and her fingers
fit the skin and she lifts me like a babe
and tosses me south.
There is no goal but supple knees
pressed in the grass in prayer for
me -- she drinks my anxiety and
warms her belly, washing me in
her baptismal from peace.
fit the skin and she lifts me like a babe
and tosses me south.
There is no goal but supple knees
pressed in the grass in prayer for
me -- she drinks my anxiety and
warms her belly, washing me in
her baptismal from peace.
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Anastasia Jill is a queer poet, fiction writer, and aspiring filmmaker. Her work has been published or is upcoming with Poets.org, Lunch Ticket, FIVE:2:ONE, Ambit Magazine, apt, Into the Void Magazine, 2River, Gertrude Press, and more.
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