here, a hollow house

I had a dream of pulling sticks from my mouth, then

A whole pencil. 

I woke up heaving. 

And wanting. 

When disgust seduces desire 

and the universe cracks open,

my body floods with the electricity 

of old and new wounds. 

Lately I've been holding your anger 

in pockets of my kidneys, 

against the walls of my uterus, 

and down through my tailbone. 

I release your rage in little doses

that appear as:

emptying the trash,

folding the blankets,

becoming my grandmother.