IN GOD WE

trust + fear water

trust + fear dirt 

trust crushes, stars, songs

don’t trust the store 

trust the oven more than the stove

trust light + scent

dreams less

don’t trust the internet

or even many books

trust babies, small birds, all bugs

trust + fear cats

don’t trust cars

trust some celebrities

trust mystical technologies

trust some of my ancestors

(but don’t know which ones)

trust + fear forests

trust kitchen tables

don’t trust my sewing machine

trust thread + dark spaces

trust them to  transform 

trust smoke

trust + fear fire

trust my neck + below

don’t trust my neck + above

don’t trust teeth, or skin

trust temperature, hair

trust old things

trust new less 

trust + don’t trust sleep

trust + fear trust

trust dying

trust trying

UMPTEENTH BECOMING

i miss those days just yesterday when I would pile my hair 

those days when i would stuff wet wild petals into my jacket, 

listen to experts explain survival, take photos of the gen z graffiti 

the beach house was an autonomous zone, the playground a crumbling 

dynasty. the man played drum on the dock  to the ghosts in the taped off

bathroom behind him. i miss my arms in the generous light learning to move,

the melted candles in my backpack, the bed sheet covered in horses, 

the tarot full of grass and sand, the jars of diluted experiment that i’d

wrap so gently in a sweatshirt hood before setting out into the known

unknown to float above the roots and worms

below the city moon.