another neo-sapphic love poem

Image result for pomegranate

pomegranates they all write about

pomegranates and i think it’s fucking stupid i think they yearn for

that clean contrast,

fruit on marble like

blood on grass,

like skin in sea,

the oxymoron in

“angel of death” but

we are all in opposition already,

mythology is redundant,

binarism is flat beside triangulation and

after all, our grandmothers found their way

not by following the sunset

but by tracing the stars.

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *