Tag Archives: Zoë Koenig

all that has happened is unburiable i have seen you drink continents of grief to surface each of our atlantises with their rooms of fisted lovers and unstomachable autumns will be swum to eventually i know you have lakes chambered … Continue reading →

i do not tell you about the hospital about its soft walls how we couldn’t have staples in anything how they kept our shoes locked in a room how the boy across the hall told me he heard voices telling … Continue reading →

so you let the unsaid sit at the table and woke up in its blue mouth as tremor and made monument of the sheets with your sleeplessness and a massacre in the bathtub but you promise you’re fine you have … Continue reading →

to accept that what you have born will live to bury you to be both womb and swallowed to empty cartridge of body into body to love the rain despite the flood to be ash and learn of wind to … Continue reading →

your skin unpeels itself from the one before and comes to me on broken legs i do not pretend that uncovering you is not a violent thing that i have not held your last lover as you said her immaculate … Continue reading →