Emelia Reuterfors
1)
lacewings
flaunt their bodies
on the car hood. how daring
to open
when translucent.
silky glands
make stainless eggs.
night rotations, darling
they shift gears. they sift
the weak and surface.
2)
the red center
pulsed permissions
a milky shiver for me.
i thought i saw a tongue float
like a cobweb. i thought
a worm had deepened in my throat.
i heard something grind inside.
i take this seriously
as green-lighted prey.
locked horns, a tickling kind of
fur is open to attack.
3)
what is discovery? teeth
inside and living
soft signatures.
we unraveled our wet
beddings on the truck bed
glowing through the windshield, breasts divided
just some eyes
with singing legs.
4)
i hear what i see and it twins;
it halves in drainage,
suckles the earth's
neck, swallows
my breath. here
is the microbic
green throat
of a throat
swallowing
a throat.