pulled out your death, your golden heart, it glowed like a devil's wedding. I drank it down, let it live in my belly like an animal womb. I crawled on all fours for you, kept my stomach against the harsh grass, that your death would be low to the earth, that your death would not bloom in the sun.
A chapbook about a creature from Slavic mythology and his closeted partner, an Alaskan bush pilot.
