People

Who is this woman who talks to me
Dressed in black
Wearing my jewellery

People write about vegetables and pelvises
People write about the death of their children
And the crimes they’ve committed

There’s a gender error sitting on my porch
Looking me in the eye
Holly ghost, the torch of my loins
Undistinguishable

People write about their childhood and senility
People write about fucking their mums

They couldn’t find my corpse lying on the bathroom floor
People write about suicides and gas
People write letters of condolence

Like there’s no antidote for wisdom
Ants crawling on my dissected brain
And dreams rejected like bad ovaries
People write about fear and kitchen sinks
People write about life and love

Who is this woman who talks to me
Dressed in black
Wearing my intestines around her neck

People write about flamingo birds
And their coral feathers
I’m nowhere to be found man without bird
Woman without spine
Closed up