Sharp- A Weyward Sisters Collaboration

I am playing with knives again sharpening them lovingly against brown leather strap admiring the way hair splits cleanly upon the well-honed edge (Christine E. Ray) Listen! Sounds like a violin– fine strings ‘gainst steel bow I play concerto splitting hairs (Kindra M. Austin) I’m trimming those frayed ends sharpening those pointy convictions giving them … Continue reading Sharp- A Weyward Sisters Collaboration

Are You Fucking New Here?- A Weyward Sisters Collaboration

Originally published on Sudden Denouement You dropped by today dissected my verse thoughtfully pointed out all the ways I could smooth out my edges improve flow to slide more gently past your discerning eyes you must be fucking new here if you think I was asking for it not a fan of unsolicited advice my … Continue reading Are You Fucking New Here?- A Weyward Sisters Collaboration

Sharp- A Weyward Sisters Collaboration

I am playing with knives again sharpening them lovingly against brown leather strap admiring the way hair splits cleanly upon the well-honed edge (Christine E. Ray) Listen! Sounds like a violin– fine strings ‘gainst steel bow I play concerto splitting hairs (Kindra M. Austin) I’m trimming those frayed ends sharpening those pointy convictions giving them … Continue reading Sharp- A Weyward Sisters Collaboration

Are You Fucking New Here?- A Weyward Sisters Collaboration

I do love my collaborations with the Weyward Sisters

Sudden Denouement Collective

You dropped by today

dissected my verse

thoughtfully pointed out

all the ways I could

smooth out my edges

improve flow

to slide more gently past

your discerning eyes

you must be fucking new here

if you think

I was asking for it

not a fan of unsolicited advice

my “friend”

I like my truth

raw

bloody

with a hint of lemon for acidity

that stings going down

(Christine Ray)

Oh, hello,

I didn’t see you there

although I can already tell you like to stare,

as if it is your obligation

to females everywhere.

And everywhere you seem to be.

You’re the type who lingers in keyboards,

assaulting our letters

with ones you would never dare to speak.

You’re the type who visits galleries just to sigh,

point out the vulvas in the petals

and tut at a landscape you’ve never visited.

You’re the type who slumps way down…

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