this is a love poem in my own way
in a porcelain cup, i’ve put your ejaculate and read our future. there are blackened leaves at our feet. we want to eat our young because there is a famine. we will never be more alive. even when the bed we lay in disintegrates and acid fills our lungs, we’ll keep chirping. the future is a ram conducting our dance. the sun copulates with the earth, keeping my uterus burnt keeping your eyes set on starry figures. you’ll say infinite and i’ll just melt our hair until we turn translucent and filled.
Ashley Miranda is a latinx poet from Chicago. Her work will be or has been previously featured by the Denver Quarterly, CCM Press, Ghost City Review, Lockjaw Magazine, and Glass Poetry Press. She tweets impulsive poetry and other musings @dustwhispers.