body ritual

i cook my bones in a
stock pot, my blood,
boiling, in a sauce pot.

i tear myself apart,
separate the skin
from bone, or more
specifically, separate

my skin from muscle,
tendons, veins, ligaments.
i place my organs in jars,
hoping the past

will mummify my
shriveled body, it aches
to be wrapped inside
the security of tightly

bound linen, hung out
to dry like witchy herbs.
bundled smudge filled
with lavender, rosemary,
powdered teeth & honey.

By Caseyrenée Lopez

Caseyrenée Lopez is a non-binary queerfemme atheist. They edit Crab Fat Magazine, TQ Review & Damaged Goods Press in an effort to platform marginalized writers/artists, particularly queer and trans folks. Their debut full-length collection, i was born dead, is forthcoming from ELJ publications in 2018. Follow them on Twitter @caseyreneelopez.