John Dominique once said,“You cannot kill truth. You cannot kill justice.You cannot kill what we are fighting for”
I begin unraveling the binding covering my abrasions,
No one praises Zeusfor her gallivanting,her lightning seductionstriking men’s bedroomslike revelation,her half-mortal progenyspringing fully-formedfrom her youthwomb, her hipsleaving them to growoutside of herselfaway from her throneher lips are thunder…
What everyday is like is this. I hear an ambulance and I think it’s coming for somebody I love. Babette called me “old soul,” and she called Tatiana Eleanor Cruz “little punk bullet.” What that meant for me was I was in a perpetual state of stress and it showed on my…
she wants to build a planewith sheets of aluminum andfinger paint. the cockpit will sitaround her head, her wingsreaching the tips of her fingers;on her nose will hang a propeller.she will turn her radio off,the silence fueling her ascent.
