Category Poetry and Prose Contest

Summer in the 90's meant the word schizophrenia did not exist inside my mother

float inside you, fondle your hear

the sand squishes up between 

my toes like brown sugar

I remember that Halmoni was the first person to call me a bitch.

It is the aperture that we cling to,
an exit that implies a return.

i will peel the orange for you
and in the moment you hold
the piece in your mouth

i wish to be burnt alive
by what i love.

Billions of snakes

deep throating themselves into oblivion.

you laugh about buying
duck eggs from the farmstand