less male gaze, more female gays, u feel me
"She shaved the fox in the bathtub, water lavender-thick. Instead of bleeding hands, we bathed in riverbanks. Her hair slicked back, jaw almost unhinged. Instead of nose bleeds, we burned our palms. I skinned a redtail catfish. Leanne shaved the fox with our father’s razor. A poem in which my neck in not nicked, in which I can unbraid my hair. The pot as black as the soles of our feet, her eyes the color of wet sky. The fox quiet and pale in dizzy water. Leanne, red in green forest ground, red on the hare, red on the fox, red on the sleeping doe. Our baby teeth around her neck. I could never look away. Red, as in home. Red, as in something deeper than blood. Red, as in when the wolf knocked, we were quick: her fingers on the blade while I opened the door rabbit-throat wide."
I’M LEAVING SHITHOLE SUBURBIA IN A WEEK AND MOVING TO HALIFAX FOR GOOD THIS TIME INTO AN AMAZING SHITTY APARTMENT WITH NO FURNITRE BUT MY BEST FRIEND IS GONNA B THERE AND WE’RE ROADTRIPPING IT LIKE U DONT UNDERSTAND HOW EXCITED I AM I PLAYED HARMONICA FOR FOUR HOURS LAST NIGHT ON MY BALCONY BCUZ I CUDN’T SLEEP THINKING ABOUT IT.