“Jupiter Letter”

perhaps 

you should just 

let yourself 

be a mannequin

die silent little deaths, 

keep it down, twirl around

bruised as a pear 

no one buys

wear the masks

the punishers craft

in this age of uninnocence, 

strut like a slut

after all,

ever met, never known,

salty and unheard,

what are senses for?

when you knock to 

houses with no floors,

you could peel your skin off

they still wouldn’t see your soul,

but you’ll know,

and with you all the stars in the

sky from which you fell

angel of spring,

blue, giant soul

so be the thing which 

flies, be the moon lit 

night, make it gold, 

kind hearted animal, 

make it yours before

they steal it,

starlet, be universe

fuck fuck fuck their tiny minds 

spit spit spit in their blind eyes

better yet just be, my Versailles,

peaceful in your incomprehensible

vastness

let yourself be Jupiter, 

let yourself be enormous soul 

you are

even unnoticed, even unrecognized, 

even utterly alone,

for you’ll know, 

camomille girl, I’ll know,

the wind will sing your name.

ML, March ‘25.