GIRLS LIKE ME LOVE ANCIENT THINKING , we wear robes stained with yesterday’s wine. we wait for an ascension to heaven while standing in line to get into the martyr club. our chests studded with arrows , our hands seared with ink. we dance in golden tesserae , legs flashing neon while smoking cigarettes. we drink from silver goblets left out for the prophet. we are abandoned , in love with our gore. the heavy door propped wide open to let the night in , to let the lions in.












