sometimes lonely winter nights like these are too quiet
and my mind wanders and instead of thinking about her
i decide that i'd rather think about the statues in the Louvre.
i think about a Parisian palace of gold and shining pyramids
beneath starry skies. i think of ancient halls filled with
the armless, headless fragments of bygone glory.
divine creator, make me beautiful.
wing me of marble, shape me of stone.
give me hard eyes unseeing, white fingers unfeeling.
carve this sorrow from my breast and turn me cold.
make me perfect. make me priceless.
make me forget that, in another life, i was loved.
never did go to church, never read the bible,
never prayed except when i was on my knees in love with a girl
but i know about god.
god is:
running across the sand on an east coast summer night
filled with cicada song and cypress dripping white with
spanish moss and the deep hot stillness of the woods
behind the empty school playground near the old creek
where i pulled snails and snapping turtles from the
thick black mud of the salt marsh.
god is:
the winter woods of minnesota where
we were children digging down and down
for arrowheads and teeth and deer bones
and old fossilized things that sl
queer girl coming of age in northern California. by callistory, literature
Literature
queer girl coming of age in northern California.
queer girl coming of age in northern California feels
like heaven, like reckless 21, like speeding down the
San Mateo-Hayward bridge going straight as an arrow
on the glassy ocean water for miles and miles, like a
reggaeton heartbeat on the radio as the sunset puts
everything in soft filter and the hills go all soft and blue
to the horizon and i glimpse myself in the rearview and
goddamnit i'm stunning! i'm stunning! i'm glorious
even with my eyeliner crooked and my choppy hair
coming undone but that doesn't matter at all because
i'm finally happy, so fucking happy that it feels like my
soul is breaking open and spilling all the pi
your horoscope for the week of august 25th. by callistory, literature
Literature
your horoscope for the week of august 25th.
i. aries
the stars say they are refunding your wishes in full
because they are stars, they were only ever stars
and nothing is real - not you, not them, not anything.
ii. taurus
the stars say that you should take better care of your immortal soul.
drink water, get some sleep, go outside for a bit of fresh air.
keep doing your best. they're here for you if you need to talk.
iii. gemini
the stars say that you should have died last week.
you were supposed to be killed in a terrible car accident,
but you escaped through some unforeseen twist of fate.
there is an imbalance in the world.
the stars want you dead.
you are not safe here.
iv. c
from the girl who's clearly still not over her ex. by callistory, literature
Literature
from the girl who's clearly still not over her ex.
06/29/19
today at pride i saw a girl who looked just like you.
(honestly, you'd think i'd be used to it by now.
there are a lot of gays out there who look like you.
all you butches kind of look the same, with your
button downs and backpack pins and dirty shoes.)
but this girl, she had short hair and yellow pants
and she was holding hands with her girlfriend and
they were so sweet and lovely and goddamn perfect
(and all around us people were dancing in the streets
and distorted beyonce filled the blue summer air
and the dykes on bikes were revving their engines
and san francisco was loud with rainbows.
i.
today of all days, i finally saw you again.
it was at the cafe a block from my place.
i was at lunch with friends when you came.
i think i had cream cheese on my face.
you said hi, i said hi.
you walked away.
(your hair is
different now.
you look good.)
ii.
when i got home, i suddenly remembered that i am 21.
i walked to the store and bought cheap citrus vodka
and a six pack of lemonade beer.
iii.
tonight i want to throw up until
my heart comes out my mouth -
(a spill of
crimson in
my hands.)
it's the blank static hum of a city that's trying too hard. it's sleeping less and studying more.
it's getting As and still not feeling good enough. it's getting a C and feeling worthless.
it's reading Faulkner and Morrison and all the great American novels not because
you want to but because it's required for class. it’s volunteering at the shelter
because it’ll look good on your resume. it's working weekends because
you need the money. it's staying after school because you need the
recommendation letter. it's debating intersectional feminism
and global warming with your Tinder date. it's doing it for
the Instagram. it's pictures
/kəmˈpɝʒən/
noun.
i.
these are the faithless nights i've learned to fear,
when the California sun goes down in a pink polluted
blaze and everything gets so quiet and still except
for sirens in the distance and the full yellow moon
and the flickering lights of the gas station start
to whisper in my ear about you, somewhere out there
(with her, beside her, kissing her,
her soft hair fisted in cold hands
that i once held so tight in mine),
but of course i never believed that
will you sit with me, for just a few more moments? by callistory, literature
Literature
will you sit with me, for just a few more moments?
i.
when we woke up together in the morning, everything was fine.
you never looked so lovely as you did in the hazy light of dawn.
(softness of your lips, curled shadow of long lashes on your cheek,
sweet tender warmth of your skin on mine.)
darling, don't you remember? how we moved and touched and laughed,
how i held you so close under the covers and we talked for hours about
nothing at all.
(but you came into my life so suddenly that it seems only fitting
that you should leave in the same way.)
ii.
there's a district to the west of town called poet's corner, and
of course
A MOUTHFUL OF BUTTERFLIES. by callistory, literature
Literature
A MOUTHFUL OF BUTTERFLIES.
DARLING,
I ALWAYS DREAM IN
COLOR AND TONIGHT I'M
DREAMING IN RADIANT YELLOW,
DREAMING OF KISSING A GIRL,
DREAMING OF SUN AND SUNFLOWERS
AND LEMONADE IN THE SUMMER.
YELLOW
BUTTERFLIES BLOOM IN MY LUNGS,
HONEY SPILLS IN RIVULETS FROM MY
LIPS. DARLING, YOU DROWN ME IN
SWEETNESS. DARLING, YOU
UNMAKE ME.