i split infinitives because you
told me it’s okay that’s latin’s problem
not ours thirty-five days i’ve ripened
soft flesh gives way to mealy stone fruit
(hold me gently or i’ll collapse please)
blinking like pushing the lever
on a viewmaster black and white
freeze frames from reels i’d love to burn
ligatured by scarlet fantasies sangria dreams
supercede whiskey nightmares (lest i forget them
for some reason) kissing on the settee
mouldered hips alive again it’s okay
Originally published by with confetti
nat raum (b. 1996) is a disabled artist, writer, and genderless disaster from Baltimore, MD. They’re a current MFA candidate, the editor-in-chief of fifth wheel press, and the author of you stupid slut (Dream Boy Book Club) and specter dust (Bullshit Lit), among others. Find them online: natraum.com/links.