I do not regret
Most movements I have made and
Make. I follow my
Stomach and hungry
Belief in the story I
Am telling myself.
You, creature of smoke
And potted verdure, regrets
Sprout in our lost shade.
Stomach pained as I
Poisoned our safe space, drinking
From the putrid well,
The lies power pours,
Strangle our other-creatures
Of joy of love of
Life and so I blood-
Let our time not knowing it
Was dying and who
Held the knife. I tried
To love outside the box while
I sliced away at
My body, desire.
I drank our time before I
Loved myself, before
I believed in what
We were. I drank time trusting
The spring would not dry.