holy water

last night i dreamt of daniel
high school boyfriend
number 3 buzz cut
he always smelled like roaches
and old spice
crinkled small bills pressed flat
the clickshutripopen of ziploc freezer bags

he sat on the bed
asked me to oblige him
i said, “i’d rather not”
he whined “i thought you loved me”

i wonder: what did he expect?
this skin will never welcome him like safety
these bones still remember
the shame of not being|believed
and for the first time
he dropped old boys club allegiances
felt the scrape of broken trust across his skin

from this i have become convinced
that squirting is kin
to the gushing tears of sacral trauma|centuries old
that hands inside cunts
can unstitch scars sewn shut years ago

you see, i hadn’t seen daniel in years
and last night i showered all over you
soaked the mattress through
bathed in letting go
basked in tears of innocence and robbery
unleashed a flood
washed clean the clinging remnants
let loose lingering DNA
sewn like lace through-out these bones

and this morning when i came inside a nest of arms
this chin was lifted laughter
bubbles tracing
sunbeams shining
and you asked
“why are you laughing love?”
i answered you with an honest heart
“because there are no tears left to cry”

and i kissed you on the nose
nuzzled the bowl where tender hearts live
and slipped these fingers inside you
and there, i touched the tears that loving makes
conjured with you
the magic cleanse of salt water
cum puddles: the holiest of waters

this poem is from my poetry chapbook 13 months feral.
you can order a pay-what-you-can digital copy of my chapbook here.

and if you're interested in more poetry and art that supports survivors you can check out we believe you: femmes surviving toxic masculinity.