my body is brutalist architecture

a man once compared the curve

of my shoulder to a field of corn

i’ve never felt more misunderstood

i bare my teeth and stop moving

 

i’m getting good at being hungry

remember: nobody is actually boring

everybody accidentally leaves

their fingerprints all over the place

 

-

 

i leave my leg hair just long enough

to make me a feminist.

the hair is just blonde enough

that my legs still look feminine,

 

and just soft enough

that any man’s hand fumbling

up to my quiet thighs

wouldn’t know the difference.

 

phototaxis

we search for faces in everything

i too am trying to travel to space

and live on a planet that doesn’t know me

 

would kill me like moths

hurtling their small bodies at hot glass

mistaking it for the moon

 

sometimes science fails us

transverse orientation:

basing my trajectory on a falsehood

due to a flaw in my evolution

 

some animals run toward light

some animals run away from it

i study the lines on cockroach wings

 

try to read them like gauzy palms

which inclination

is more dangerous?

 

-

 

you once said cats drink

water from the faucet

because still water in nature grows

bacteria or something, “same”

i said. i begged you to throw stones

at my stomach to ripple me.

i ran, not with legs, with a current,

away.

 

it’s not your fault:

we were both consuming

each other,

but i drank faster.

 

Candace Holmes lives in Rotterdam, The Netherlands

@candfood