misty freak

bloody-legged rascal,

bare feet propped sideways on the tampon bin.

when did i get so specifically human?

i stopped brushing my hair sometime in this shiny routine,

and i still get high in stalls.

red-floored beauty

shows me some love,

some musty inconvenience, some muggle power called

Love All.

Earth spins in ritual madness or shudders,

ripped to pieces in wild revelry,

in benevolent possession,

in religious ecstasy,

and still i exhale like

pick me Dionysus! pick me!