Nam June. Poem by Mary X

Flicker candle.
Do what we want to little cat
bright eyes. Knife.
inch closer to destiny un
r
a
v
elin
g.

The doctor draws ever more
near with cocoon in jam.
How testing to
think of what dark web of which
will spiral into your blood.
your draping dress.
your poor salty food.
your own flesh tearing with every
rooftop break.

A hand pours down over your face and you're once again
reinvented
and
killed
with one swoop of a button.