Take off my shoes and wade into a rust blood red pool. Not water like water, but a body. Water as a body. A body of tissue under my toes, into my toes. The bottom of a body. The pulse of a heart of water. It ripples like water ripples. Like ribbons. Like breath around nipples. I’ve been so happy the last few days that even the darkness is happy. Clicking its nails together, bubbling up, rubbing its hands like sticks. No fire yet, cold blood extinguishes the sparks. Some part of me wants blood. To smell it like hot metal in the hairs of my nose. To strike colorful needles into my skin, to tattoo my skin with birds, to make skin fly like birds.
Red eye in photos won’t ever rub out.
Reflections we finally see in ourselves printed for everyone to see. I love you like you love me in the nest of me. I love you hunchbacked inside of me. Raw foodism. I’m not scared when you open your eyes. Red and gold – the royalty of a wedding.

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