i can’t cement & make concrete the details of how i became
when you reached for my shoulder i’d tundra sorry the smolder of another man’s eyes warmed more than frostbitten lips
if you knew my skeleton had to relearn how to bud & bloom & why i tucked predators into my jellyfish skin, maybe then—
i’m sorry sometimes when you’d kiss my neck i turn my head towards him.
ash scatter & ghost wind.
you were never supposed to fossil crumble beneath my shame i had faith that trust woolly & tusked would survive the cold age.
Michael Russell (he / they) is Mama Bear to chapbook Grindr Opera (Frog Hollow Press). He’s queer, has BPD, Bipolar Disorder and way too much anxiety. His work has appeared in Arc Poetry Magazine, Heavy Feather Review, Homology Lit, Plenitude among other places. He lives in Toronto and thinks you’re fantabulous. Instagram: @michael.russell.poet.