a nameless thing

There is a name
but I refuse to call it
I am searching for another
but nothing can carry

It is starting to look like loss
like my very being
has given itself to be used
by a thing I do not approve

I forbid it often
I reach far into myself
the self I know can birth victory
and ask Is this who you are?
the answer is No

So I reach beyond the lines (again)
to prove I am who I say I am
It is easy work some days
On others, it is lodged in my throat
like a pill and will not go down

Butter mint

This is softer
made with coconut oil
white with red
stripes around the bend
does not break
when I bite
does not labour
the roof of my mouth yet
holds like fingers would

This one takes me back
to the hour after vigil
walking around the bend
lightening bugs cackling
feet brushing against tarmac
my arms around her neck
my weight pinned against her back