INFATUATION, UNSURITY, AND CLOSURE POETRY

SERIES BY OLIVE GOLDMAN

Infatuation

Crawl into my mind like the maggots that penetrate flesh. The flesh of the sick, and the poor, and the weak. I’ll tie down the sun because you hate your shadow, and the way that it follows you. It follows you like the guilt and the sin that settles in your throat. So wash it down with my perfume, And don’t let me see you spit and gag at the mist.

Hyperfixation turn to desperation

Settling for scraps, Like a dog tripping over their own paws.

Unsurity

You didn’t ask me to untie the sun. But I could see the color dropping from your cheeks. I have so much to say

But you’ve asked me to cut out my tongue. I dry off with a wet towel day after day, And tell myself this is warmth. The warmth that gives goosebumps

And shivers down my spine.

Closure

Darkness erodes me, But I don’t have fear; For the erosion lets me see the light. It peeks through the shut blinds And holds my eyes open.

It sharpens my teeth

And lifts my head to the sky. The blue doesn’t turn to black And the sun doesn’t melt for the moon. I don’t sit in the rays and feel cold anymore. No longer a sheep in wolf’s clothing, Or a wolf in sheep’s. These are just my clothes.

The kind of warmth that makes the rings fall from my fingers, Or the blood flow thicker in my body.

I’ve molded you in my mind

But the clay is starting to clump, and crack my hands.