#2 – host

last night i woke up inside the shape of a girl
i no longer resemble.

she walked like she had extra knees.
spoke in dead birds.
touched the wallpaper like it could feel her back.

my face melted down in the mirror,
gathered in the sink like old milk.
i washed it down.
said amen.

she calls me host.
i call her hush.

once, i caught her
trying to peel me from the meat of me.
she said, you're not using this body right.
she said, let me drive for a while.

so i let her—
and we drove into the ocean
with our mouths open,
laughing like broken instruments.

underwater,
our hair braided itself into new timelines.
my lungs filled with cicadas.
her wrists turned into unlocked doors.

now we share this skin like roommates
with nothing to say.
i twitch the left eye,
she bleeds from the right.

maybe we're sisters.
maybe we're scars.
maybe we're two teeth
in the same mouth.

but when the hunger comes,
we both lean in

–lifelover