My Heart Soars




It’s precisely a 12-tiered blue-iced wedding cake

Shooting into me all at once, intravenously

until gound-yellow crumbles

tipple out my tear ducts

and frosting flowers

take fleshlumping root between

the secret winter hairs on my heaving


It’s a sea-blue, salt-versed liquefied wedding cake

streaming at the velocity of a snipped elevator

rocketing down the ruined throat

13th floor, 12th…

the pound in the ground will come will jilt

my bones out

of my breath, I know it

but with 200 tons of buttercream dandelion fluff

sporing wishes

in my rising cheekbones

How could I fret now of death?


the twelve-tiered

sun-smeared humanness

that offers me joy in honey-sparkled candy-coins



the sugar-fueled bonfire

that will shear my head off

its neckstand and leave my body eyeless, heavy

-thudding in the dark

Perhaps this type of terrified

is what comes of hiding one’s whole life

behind a senile abandoned refrigerator,



for no one.



Image credits in order of appearance:

By Leif Ørnelund – Oslo Museum: image no. OB.Ø68/2834 (Byhistorisk samling), via, CC BY-SA 3.0,

By Megan Chromik – originally posted to Flickr as Happy Valentine’s Day, CC BY-SA 2.0,

By Rochelle Hartman –, CC BY 2.0,

By david mills, CC BY-SA 2.0,


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