be the punch
crush mouth your
against the floor:
nightly, insects gather
at your bedlight drinking
gold, wings scorched
against your neck
by morning. Your teeth
& I worry
at the wound. Inside,
a moth has laid
over my shoulder,
Tonight we are the thick
in this slice
of light, in sex scent,
Gemini Remember Their Father
I am sorry for deceiving you. When
I shed my feathers, I am just a naked bird-
god; just the shell of the egg. I can almost see
it, now; tremors under translucent skin, pockets
where the light passed through.
When the crack comes, transverse sliver like
the jagged mouth of an open quarry, I
tumble out, dark gold hair, wetly screaming,
insensible to the heavy teeth of a crown.
Or maybe that was you? The godbird sleeping
in your blood, our siblings stirring
in their yolks, our father’s yellow
eyes watching. What little good he saw in mortal
offspring: twins limned by the divine. I
can still feel his gaze in shadows, knowing
he is deceiving us; knowing he is deceived.
Arah Ko is a writer living on an active volcano. Her work has appeared in Ruminate, Rust+Moth, and SIREN, amoung others. When not writing, she can be found correcting her name pronunciation, counting constellations, and contemplating the meaning of life, other than 42.