my dishonest soul & I run to you
wicked bone of mine
I don’t know how long you can survive
the unbecoming of the glass castle
we hide this haunted
out of my sight in the woods of dreams
where I cage the good
we, the animals
unstitched among strangers
never pure enough to drown
Source: Various Book Titles
Editor’s Note: You can see A. P.’s artwork for this poem here.
A. P. is originally from Bucharest, but lives in Stuttgart, Germany. Her work appears in Severine, Watershed Review and Glass: A Journal of Poetry, among others.