my dishonest soul & I run to you
wicked bone of mine
marooned goddess
I don’t know how long you can survive
the unbecoming of the glass castle
we hide this haunted
world
out of my sight in the woods of dreams
where I cage the good
we, the animals
we, sea
unstitched among strangers
never pure enough to drown
something beastly
to rest

 

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.