every morning, it sings –
but it is not pretty: bird’s nest
instead of hair, purple
accordions lacerating the thighs. if i
could make a wish: winged, angelic,
anything but the meat.
one slight adrenal mis-calculation leading
to rogue, to roam, to in-visibly dis-abled:
if my mother had known. had slept on it.
but imperfectly to perceive, to in-
and ex-hale buttercups. if i could make
a wish: to treasure, to relish,
to finger in-betweens. why not
prisms? chimeral on the map? nightjar,
frogmouth, xx, xy, however the wind
Lorelei Bacht is a person and poet. Their recent work has appeared and/or are forthcoming in Anti-Heroin Chic, SWWIM, Sinking City, Barrelhouse, The Inflectionist Review, Menacing Hedge, Corporeal, and elsewhere. They are also on Instagram: @lorelei.bacht.writer and on Twitter @bachtlorelei