est. 2022
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PHOENIX TESNI
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interim intimacy
Phoenix Tesni
i.
poets always spiral
galaxies out of control.
I say this with a certain
authority, a rail-track
love letter addressed
to all the women I
am yet to be.
ii.
in four glass jars,
I have the moonlight
tightly entrapped.
liquid platinum
scorching my skin.
the last kiss. a
syllogism.
iii.
I have loved you
in ways more than I
have known. we have
made the oceans
weep. jawline to
collarbone, a ridge.
we sang holy eulogies.
a prayer.
a conversation.
iv.
either way, I am reborn.
I save myself.
poets will only love you
till the poem is written.
the cynic's love song to indifference
Phoenix Tesni
your wife is humming herself into a
Nightdress she never thought she'd wear.
Seven ages ago, I dreamt I'd kissed you
to death. God didn't smile, of course, because
she was still angry about the time
I cursed her for making my mum hurt.
she said, “babygirl, you did that all by yourself.”
My arteries are emptying themselves of all the
Love I have pretended to have, and all the Love
I've pretended to let go of. another monochrome
man makes me laugh, and I, as always,
fall in love. & As is the natural order of things,
I fall out of love, and regret it, again. one Swish
of eyeliner. Four thumbs. I chew the galaxy
open, & spit all of the stars out like seeds; nectar
dripping down my chin like blood-
cardinal & cherry-like.