Order painted ladies off the internet
and watch them grow from
caterpillar, chrysalis, cocoon, fly, die.
Metamorphosize than photosynthesize,
pollination is sexualization.
Dissect the diagrams of daffodils.
Unfold yourself in the white clawfoot tub
and wait for stimulation.
Listen to Our Fathers sermonize
Declarations of impartation.
Remember everything from kindergarten
up through eighth grade like a bad mutation.
Like a mural-sized eye spy picture
of caricatured creations.
Collaged papier-mâché layers of memorization.
Learn the alphabetization of generations
starting with Washington and ending with Armageddon
but where are the women?
Peel the skin off the skeletons
and count up the two-hundred-six bones—
I am not just a rib of Adam.
I’m the whole God-blessed Genesis discography,
hear my body sing the hymn of hymen.
Watch the glass jar of your mother’s
sun tea darken into sunset.
Hold the dusty carcasses of cicada shells
up to the Heavens
and pray that one day,
some soul will see inside
the monstrosity of your mind
and still love you.
Julia Bonadies holds a B.A. in English from Eastern Connecticut State University. She is currently for her Masters in Secondary Education at ECSU. Her work is published in the Albion Review and The Leaflet. She lives in Connecticut with her cat, Allister.