XImena Keogh Serrrano

Oracle Pizarnik tells me about silence about the desire conspired under our tongue— fundamental stone She tells me of solitary words, their leaking splatter & I can’t help but chase the fist of petals gathered like a garden in your hands Ocular downpour drenched in your fingers In the pulse of your pond’s opening your skin of pearl gifts me a twilight there, the site of my fundamental future a forest grove Interpellation When the sting of unrecognition renders you mute— Corporeal notes shape nerve into symphony Over the...