POETRY
Horses
she was first clay, lumpy horse
galloping glide over carpet
like blade to ice
a child’s plaything
back masked by painted saddle
play her in reverse
a thumbprint appears over my other eye
on Ash Wednesday
then she grew synthetic hair, blondie boy
hips shuffling into a dress
like caterpillars to chrysalides
a birthday party
taffeta tutu dragged through the thunderstorm
crack the door a little
and she spits the apples back
into the crotch of the tree
then she grew a broomstick from her throat
hobby horse, used to ride her
into the death metal
like a game of Jenga
towers stretch and sway and serrate
against the dappled gray vault of heaven
crush the sugarcube in your palm
and a sty appears over my other eye
on my wedding day
Then she grew an iron shoe
in my foyer, lucky girl,
winking at the spirits
like neon red vacancy signs
on the horizon
a soft landing
wooden interiors folding into love letters
knees buckling under the weight of a moviekiss,
dust kicked up when you fall so madly in -
stay after the credits
and i fall asleep in the air conditioner
and everything has started over
germ lynn (they/them/theirs) is a writer and cellist living in Brooklyn. Their work has been published by Radix Media and Hypergraphic Press. They are working on their first book of poetry, to be implanted under their skin.