Shrouded // Holy Delicacies // Brittle Bones (3 poems)

Three poems published by Rose Quartz Journal

August 14, 2018

Shrouded

I’ve been living in a world of blanketed screens film shrouding like a veil; how do I tell my body that we are done now we can begin to feel again the whisper of your touch on bare skin, serene & pimpled goose flesh plucked of feathers- stolen wings but still I will soar.

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Holy Delicacies

I am holy like the / most / delicate / cheese –

Eat me whole / then spit me out / skin and bones / undigested.

I already told you / once before, / my womanhood

is a delicacy / you cannot / afford.

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Brittle Bones

Last night my bones became brittle, obsequious to your every desire…

I felt them tremble within, a vibrating skeleton of pearls.

Watch me glimmer for you, contort into

whoever you want me to be,

whatever skeletal shape I am intended to be

in your eyes nothing

but

bones.