essa ranapiri

The sparkle in ur eyes versus my dysphoria 

u apply silver nail polish 

to my nails 

the smell telling me i could not bite them 

w/o the price of a recoiling 


that i let out of my mouth too often 

shaking hands 

are covered in fur like some ghastly orangutan 

was grafted into my being at the age 

of thirteen 

the largeness and the wrinkling skin 

makes my mind into a ghost and body into 

a material reaction 

the stomach bunches and folds like 

white meat 

u blow on my fingers 

and i feel ur breath in the soft gaps that i am trying to live in 


i left him wrapped in curtains 

to stall the acid action of my stomach

i watched him move around the room trying to catch a moth

in a beaker

i don’t have the heart to tell him he’ll lose it 

down the sink

so i leave him to turn the tap by himself

till the water floods him out

and the water takes the words for 


with him

a filament in a light bulb 

glowing then snapping with an audible pop