TWO POEMS

Hold Me

I have an endless appetite for starfruit,for biting my teeth into the universe and spitting outthe space junk, for licking the rings of my favorite planetsand never slicing my tongue. There’s a story I shareabout my birth where angels circle my dead twin’s body,where a fawnthat has bled onto the floor.Hold me as I tell it. Hold me when the rats steal my opportunityand the raccoons bring me luck. Let’s wash our handsin the river and swing from hummingbird feeders,let’s think of all the things we want to touch. Rememberthe five birds that no longer exist? Hold me as I name them—passenger pigeon, dodo, laughing owl, New Zealand quail,the Christmas sandpiper. We can’t press rewind. We can’t go back to the first line and rewrite the story.Hold me in the grocery store when I’m crying becausethe universe is spitting us out on the sidewalkand we’re hitting our heads on the concrete. Daily.Every evening I dress in my favorite orange sweaterbecause I just want something soft near my skin.On a scale of 1 to 10, I’m a negative 4 in mental health,and a 45 in bottles of wine. Even though I was raisedby deer, I still love my parents for supporting my decisionnot to bound into traffic when I’m afraid, not to eatmy neighbor’s rosebush, even as beautiful as it looks.Today in my sweater, I look like a monarch,but you think I’m a checkerspot and I think, on a scaleof saint to goddess, at least you see my wings.