SAGEBRUSH REVIEW

Your hips are an orchard, where I put my lips, teeth, and tongue to the fruit that ripens with our heat.

I would like to spend all my hours in all my days being a child with you.

Gifted for my age until I started talking

Before I knew what a panic attack was, or how to come down

What I was doing was obvious.

Start with a house made of matches. 

My heels squish in the marshy ground. I demolish tortilla chips with a plastic fork

My twin spends our final day of teenhood in a cloudy Cincinnati apartment

When the future star was sweeping cereal dust upon weathered wooden floors