a.

Caterpillar daydream:

  / a fantasy of ritual -icides

           Call me / a larva with no mouth, I’ll eat your sighing breath /

Sucking every statement, every glower /

at the floor — a stain / on the rug: the head of a witch /

Pepper moths on a pumpkin / any instance of being alive — throw it back,

   a stain on the sheets / say it: restless. Say it: you’re restless /

Call me / something I’m not: a butterfly / she’s a zebra, founded in Florida / a dirty old

boot called

     b.

     Desire:

I want to kill motherfuckers who want to

kill me. Touch me — c’est la vie /

bitch-ass caterpillar daydream.

-----------------------------------------

d.S. randoL (they/them) can't escape the coastline. Wherever they go, there lies the ocean. It is getting to a point where they fear a life without it. They coast. You can find more of this mosher's work at Sledgehammer Lit, Punk Noir Magazine, or on Twitter @dSrandoL!