Darkness in Three Parts


There is a breathing sometimes, mostly a renaissance
feeling to the way we grow crops from our tongues.

There is a ringworm circle where my fists
used to form. A mellow lust behind the closed

door. I fall between the floor boards. There
was a peculiar mole growing on my knuckle. I felt

the ground shake underneath. Light magic, a song
from the no lung place where I kept him. We were

music together before the removal. Small gathering
in the lobby. I told him I was no good

with pleasantries. Plum dark where I am. He slices away
at me where the voice meets cheeky flesh. Bites down

and breaks into blood of the hot kind. Warm against
arm. Smooth against tongue, rough in the onset.


There was a break in the clouds, an ember glowing
in the field. Caged light, there was an absence. Caged

light, there was too much before me. I forgot how
much he needed. Forced the berries down, forced

the fruit before the split apart, which I am most
nights. There hurts in his hands. The night rolled

down the hill. The night was there on my back. Small
heaven, no one was there. No one to touch me.

I was bound with string. Held the doorknob and smell
of brass on my sleeves. They puffed up under the soft

sun. Sleep right here, I told him. There is where
he sleeps. There is not a cave, a not scent, a not

posted letter that I mailed. Never came back
into my hands. Bald spot on my windshield

where I killed it. Jaw smack down on the bed.
He hid in the corner with the salt.


Hang me into a jerky. I dry on the evenings
and sauced. There in the shade before

the sun rises. There the thing that raws
up this leg of mine. Some there where the windows

smack against the wood. Painted white. The purple
heat it takes to touch me. Like a there in the sand

of it. I am not his beach. The tie me up to something
time washes back into my mouth and covers me

in sores. Teeth to the rope, I pull him back
into there. A small delicacy like my pink

tongue and I push him down. The sand
is there when I leave. The sand was there before.


Alexis Pope is the author of the chapbooks Bone Matter (The Lettered Streets Press, forthcoming 2014), No Good (H_NGM_N, forthcoming 2013), and Girl Erases Girl (dancing girl press, 2013). Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Guernica, Washington Square, RHINO, & Sixth Finch, among others. Her first collection was selected for the Cargill First Book Award & will be published by Coconut Books in 2014. She lives in Brooklyn with a boy + baby.