daughter – seed
hello permafrost jubilee // muck in my gut // babysugar // all cramps and kitten tongue and gooseflesh and Houdini wine // you stillborn catcall // you hiss //
muck-in-my-gut // ghost-white and beloved // give me a disregard for neighbors and sirens // give me a glass of old and pretty and expensive // give me buttery hair and a nosebleed // give me crawlspace in your warm undress //
hello gut-muck // hailbine // pull-down // cursed cuscuta // diwali garland // hello spring
Note from the author:
“daughter – seed is a poem I wrote consisting of numerous lines taken from previously-withdrawn and previously-rejected pieces.”
Arielle Tipa is a writer who lives near a haunted lake in New York. Her work has appeared in Grimoire, Millennial Pink, among others, and is forthcoming in Ache. She is the founding editor of Occulum.