I wait inside your anatomy.
ridged fetus.
My mouth
tongue unborn
we share the same host.
Separate from you
I am hard to feel
stray split hairs
halving your spine.

I wait under a yellow tree
for a song to remind
to remember our smell.
We are dandelions
edible toothed leaves
weeds poisoned by doctor B
but our stories

I wait for a reader
until branches fall
trickle down bingo fingers
whip the open palm.
I am pentameter.
To quiet me you pet yourself
Be a good dog
go to sleep.

I wait for the ground to shift
to hear words rise into welts
dance hymns for the lost world
while my heart waits
under a tree

apples oranges bananas pears.

Chachee Valentine’s poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Stolen Island Review, Lullwater Review, Fugue, P’an Ku, In-Site Magazine, Words & Images, Alchemy, Prairie Margins, Askew, The Bitchin’ Kitsch and Eunoia Review. Chachee attends Institute of American Indian Arts in Santa Fe, NM, for her BFA in Creative Writing in Spring ’22.

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