You tell me
you are beautiful

but then I don’t know
what to say because

I’ve heard that before, it
died like flowers that die.

She had some horses, Harjo says
That licked razor blades. I haven’t

licked any but my mother licked
the toilet bowl in college. and my hand

licked the iron once. Maybe it liked it
maybe did it on purpose when I wasn’t

looking. Almost called my hand a bastard
but she stopped to remove judgment from herself.

Hand is not it not separate and severed
my horses are wild have human heads,

have otter heads because people say
my eyes are too mischievous to be calm

like horse eyes.

Now I have to go write for the academy of up-turned noses.