I fled the devil / Where he stood / Among the turning crows / Over the tired field.
In this life, I should have been most happy. Nary a care in the world, save for the constant pressure of having to marry the need for a mate with a tune.
Even when you think / you are touching someone / you never truly are
Black shadow hangs over the dust of my beloved; / So I turned myself into dust, but the shadow left me behind.
During my father’s sermons, I would read / about my namesake and the men he killed.
There is one church for the people who admit they are good / and one church for the people who don’t.
your father loves us / too much / for flowers / she said
He chooses so late // and I fail to swerve—
Sometimes I dream of that boy on his deathbed, calling for water, // a cold cloth, just before he dies, the atoms of him beginning to collapse