By | 5 December 2019

After Aphrodite Desiree Navab’s Super East-West Woman

The dervish in me can’t let go of my addiction
to theory. There are so many ways to explain
the tragedy of devotion; all the names of God
held captive by I. Come inside my blue cocoon,
lavish in a curiosity the state disputes. I didn’t say
I was really about that life. I said blue, not blew.
Heaven isn’t a happy ending, you know?
Heaven is crawling inside of a mirror and redraw-
ing with obsidian edges, to kill off crystal growth.
I never wanted to be a lava angel, or a good example.
When I say home, I mean origin as a transitive verb.
When I say love, I mean these miracles are work.

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