Bell Book and Cradle/Barefoot Pink Saint

We want to be handcuffed                                          we want to be viable
            our Tarot showing                               our love in the snow

                        wherein the bullet
can’t feel like anything                                    but a gaslit definition
a Texas fake lake

slow pills and throat glass
rough-tongued, panhandling                we learn the needle stays on

            to become a blue teen                         w/ orange rooted hair
or Talky Tina               w/ cowboy lips                        a 8-track inside
and/or black rabbit ears

 

reciting                        How does our campsite                 lose weight in rain
                        how does our lung cluster operate?

            Our burden is heavy                                        anointed in cinnamon
we say goodnight

diamond die light                        a match made in raven
            lobotomy giggles               and you’ve got an inn….

We can’t feel its light                           for our violent X-boyfriend
for the blood of a ghost

                        We come disfigured                 to your lipstick in green
a freshwater Empress invites our night

           and we want to come to your Christ but our roommate—