Three Poems by Shelby Milizia

She’s milling back and froth-fer
a pooled chanting in her willow gut
arms e-lapsing iridescent flies                as Munchhausen
coming in as many murmured – many peaches as she can stand

pitted green at all tea parlor ceremonies
nothing changes when creame priests bellow

her face is flooding, she begins to drown in it
in herself and yet
but she is not something to be laughed at

As a mannequin – she can count to any number
she doesn’t have to count herself
or on her hands and fingers
but still she reads 0 3 6

the bank has told her she is negative
there is no fault outside of her
no one remembers to pull out in time

sapphires – so blue – they make her lids ache
she shatters them with tiny hammers
for now the letters can become legible

can be read as–
can’t stand herself.


Bring the brooked hammer nail
loted deep the furthering rain
that gathers
in growing
as it tears them open
to darker townsman doors
those rot for the approaching storm

thighs shiver as she fears their opening
as clouds spread the dogs
wet and grievous
in missing gums
to a harsher beast coming to crouch within
stained by sea glass
and crying grass that whistles
when walked upon

hear their wails of un-fulfillment
for this is not a loving lash
to tie around your hips as you shake them

and caress
and scream for it to end

this is not a place for un-ripped hair
that gets caught in fisted cries
where for them the only pipe shriek
is from the wheezing of nostrils as she struggles to breathe

and breathe
breathe
She struggles for air
holding her breasts close in hand
as she attempts to squeeze out the rain
that beads from her as they firm

and she becomes gutted
by an infantile swelling of eggs
laid by the sea god’s beast
who’s pecked away her sight
in its burning white
until nothing is left but ash

hair stitchings
she knitted her eyebrows
to make a face

she meant to say ‘oh’
‘oh ah oh’

but amidst
kissing his sweater sweat her
tongue gagged on cufflinks

imprinting a
a constrictor’s hissss
hush hush
oohhh/

gasping her lips over skinning collars
and clavic constrainings–
nipping fabric
and tearing his nails for him

sobbing ‘no ah oh’

such eyes in the daytime
she holds a predator bunching
building a spinal column to butcher
by a shifting and bursting of scales
slithering her weight, he yawns mandible-lessss

holding her close

hush hush

until she’s no-oohhh longer limber
or loud.



Profile: Shelby Milizia

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