Coraddi Magazine

a dream dismantled (it seem to come to me from the trees.)
Michelle Everette

drunk & black i enter your home, following my mother’s scent. i am the poet’s pretty
wound. a man raised me this way- to move in metaphor. i breathe only in riddles. this
hell is where you brought her to die. did you yank her by the big toe, shove aristotle so
far up her asshole that the teeth bled rhetoric? there are dots here where stars once
were, say the trees out there. but this ain’t about you. or even the way i dressed to kill
your daddy. got an ocean of red inside me, so dark now it’s like swallowing after
midnight. so i come back here to free myself. & watch you drown.