Poems from Marika Brooks
take a sip
[subway sound
dusk body birthmark
tooth rattle
fibreglass plaything
erotic paralysis
gritty bloodstream
contagious fumbling...
half way between where our fingers meet
is where I want to exist until
the sun and the moon
expire.
We are the hands that grasp at this crumbling world,
picking up the pieces and making them shiny again.
We were given something that was...
The commodification of sadness
Creates a complexity of response
In a capitalist society that cannot
Understand its own trauma.
The...
There you fell,
A terrible masterpiece
all enraged with beauty.
Your canvas was blank
before your little heart
found a bigger vessel
and...