(When) a hard look at what’s holy (softens)

By | 1 June 2022

A while ago, I told my boyfriend that
I won’t put the worm on the hook
because I think the worm looks

like my clit. We were naked on the bed
examining said specimen when he said no

way, but I maintained that to me it does,
and he asked, “Do you want me

to get the worms?” Live Bait,
a Styrofoam cup in the fridge.

I did.
He did.

The worms looked
cold. Since then, quail feathers, a snake shed,

the deckle edge around
Gone fishing.
I wake up

a warm body
left to sleep in.

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