I finally fell behind after being ahead or on time all month...
Text your sisters.
Bring lipgloss and sweetgrass --
mix glitter in the circle salt.
Brass knuckles in the wine glass.
Cunt blood in the cookies.
Curse every ceiling between you
and becoming a star.
Curse the man who touched your ass on the subway,
the boss who winked
when you asked for extra hours,
the boy who came too soon,
the one who left too soon.
Burn their names, use the slips
of pink paper to light your cigarettes.
Toast the women with you.
Bless the wild bitch grandmothers
who sang you to life before you were born.
Hold hands. Gift gratitude. Kiss
your sisters with lovewet warrior lips.