Search
  • Seneca Basoalto

Proserpina

The blood of old idioms climb my suffering like ivy / feral words that slide from my mouth sound just like you, impersonating the vernacular of your curiosity which trigger how forcefully you squeeze your fingertips into my fossilized knees / you whispered my thighs once belonged to Proserpina


I flee from your dirty hair, damp walls that study the humidity in our individual breaths,


You monopolize the air, you pervade everything / a child's mouth, the last dusting of an Olympic wave / a divergent rhododendron, the pain in my voice / love, in sallow hands and hurricanes, Pluto occupies everything, with touch, with fever & flush / without boundary or inhibition


If there was more of me to find, you hunted it down to reverb into my soul, to use as pillows,


In one night - you saw the moon tumble from my waist into the hours of nocturnal waters, you slipped in thru the sea, in silence / you hush each caustic cry pushing one mouth to another     naked, of your permanent pride / naked, in blue vein & eye / you never left me, but smeared the syllables of every timeline until it was just / you & me


Beasts of current, fed off the constellations, you left nothing behind.

Recent Posts

See All

Gilboa

I don't call my mother by anything other than her given name you assemble your jealousy in the kitchen your first husband built, another name you never took | another name you didn't earn but kept ins

Candid

I think regret, & there—! you are washed ashore & curdling in my sight as if you have been missing the taste of my cradle as much as I have been missing the taste of your thumbs gunpowder & flowers, y

Every Scholar has his Folly

I. You fantasize about a patch of daisies and a grape vine. Dirty knees, as well as cattle fields, remind you of lace latent innocence playing with bubbles in bathwater, as you watch from chair, legs