Queen Violet?
Dream flowing like blood from your wound?
They put you away, huh Darling?
You wear a hospital gown and stand on a rock.
Natives surround you, raw sex in costumes strange to us.
I want to stand beside you on the rock
to take your place
but I’m nauseous and must escape
the dark theater
for the light of day.
You cut your wrist, cut it with the jagged edge
of the lid of a tin can.
That’s the last thing I remember
’til I woke in a cold sweat
staring at the far, dark reaches
of the ceiling.
Did you pass out too?
Dream flowing like blood from your wound?
Collage @Billie T. Stark All Rights Reserved
Billie T. Stark
Billie T. Stark is a queer poet and fiction writer living in the Deep South. Stark was born a male, sadly, but is reconciled to that assignment and hopes to achieve a full measure of humanity in spite of it. He has been, among other things, a teacher, reporter, manual laborer, office worker, performance artist and street musician.
