ridding

i wished i could paper-airplane my face away.
then, all into the night, my sleeves could sing
like song birds. no sleep. you were promising that
we would have the big big house & the icing.
licking my fingers, you told me i wasn’t a lady.
i looked down to find myself in the body
of a feral child. all my words turned to beetles
& crawled out of my skull. i believe in
ice berg poetry. how a word can surface
to show a deeper depth & a danger. i crash cruise ships
into trees. no one is on them. i am a wad of pink.
yes, please, swaddle me aluminum & call me never ever ever.

By Robin Gow