crawl forward

creature of the bog ✰ two-spirit ✰ i draw things that make me happy

[sylvanpriest]

depollute me

[sylvanpriest]

[sylvanpriest]

something of me is released during sundogs squinting cotton drowning out my mouth three flares for three generations

I only need the bugs puttied on our knuckle hairs your spit congealed on my lashes spared

the sacrum is sacral

I will feel every texture compiled quickly in warning as if I were symbolic as if I could ever be traversable by anybody else

[sylvanpriest]

greenhouse effect

[sylvanpriest]

I was once a thousand other things Now i'm not

I don't understand why

half waif, salt candy

[sylvanpriest]

depollute me

[sylvanpriest]

i have only ever loved men that i wanted to be.

which is to say i have only ever loved potential. lives where i am braver, gentler, more giving than i have the capacity to readily be.

i covet the journeys of the men resting at my waist, their bangs matted to their brows, their mouths full of me.

it is always the closest i feel to divinity.

[sylvanpriest]

something of me is released during sundogs squinting cotton drowning out my mouth three flares for three generations

I only need the bugs puttied on our knuckle hairs your spit congealed on my lashes spared

the sacrum is sacral

I will feel every texture compiled quickly in warning as if I were symbolic as if I could ever be traversable by anybody else

[sylvanpriest]

Our Share of Night, Mariana Enriquez

[sylvanpriest]

I was once a thousand other things Now i'm not

I don't understand why

half waif, salt candy

[sylvanpriest]

[sylvanpriest]

two spirit loml

[sylvanpriest]

cathedral gum

[sylvanpriest]

something of me is released during sundogs squinting cotton drowning out my mouth three flares for three generations

I only need the bugs puttied on our knuckle hairs your spit congealed on my lashes spared

the sacrum is sacral

I will feel every texture compiled quickly in warning as if I were symbolic as if I could ever be traversable by anybody else

[sylvanpriest]

[sylvanpriest]

christen me but on the foaming lilt this time with the sway of pthalo body rocking talcum rock I most often turn to god when I remember the Pleistocene pelts peeling off the back of a bleeding mammal saffron and fossils salts seep between my creases tendons waxy, waning I am religious here and so little elsewhere -jm

[sylvanpriest]

two spirit loml