Flesh, unblessed / rendered unholy with no mourning
by man as the knife descends / cracking open the architecture of bone.
Grapes, spilled / signs of a mass murder
vintner turned murderer turned connoisseur.
Amber and gold and bronze and silver in a glass.
They shine under dimming lights, they burn through coiled muscles.
Two lives like double helixes, uprooting themselves
far from a million lifetimes’ worth of conformity—
I know Father will not speak of it but his sealed mouth
is testament weighing itself upon my back
that girls like me send ourselves to the slaughterhouse
to cut off glimmers of discordance / disobedience,
I learned to put out fires with my bare hands
even before I knew what free-falling to love meant.