wounded

do whatever you want

with me

whatever you prefer

i

am a little

wounded

animal

missing chunks of fur,

scars

down to the bone

*

i collect
shiny magnets and stones

stagnant

fragments

of milky white, constellations

bright stars

and olivine

on mars

i think the stars

are made of bone

*

the night we met, i didn’t come alone

i brought with me a lifelong

heartache, heartache is

a great thorned plant

like tentacles

squeezing the heart
intentionally

but slowly

i am wholly

convinced by you
that i will grow new fur one day.

thank you for giving me
a place to stay

*