floor no. 3
mannequin haus////////////
  • JESS MIZE
  • TRICIA KNOLL
  • PAUL EDWARD COSTA
  • KYLE HEMMINGS
  • ROBERT CRISP
  • ESTLIN AGNEW
  • TOM MONTAG
  • JAMES CROAL JACKSON
  • Jacklyn Janeksela
  • GRYPHYN GREENSTONE
  • MARK J. MITCHELL
  • EDWARD AHERN
  • ZACHARY SCOTT HAMILTON
  • JULIA LAXER
  • SUDEEP ADHIKARI
  • JESS MIZE
  • TRICIA KNOLL
  • PAUL EDWARD COSTA
  • KYLE HEMMINGS
  • ROBERT CRISP
  • ESTLIN AGNEW
  • TOM MONTAG
  • JAMES CROAL JACKSON
  • Jacklyn Janeksela
  • GRYPHYN GREENSTONE
  • MARK J. MITCHELL
  • EDWARD AHERN
  • ZACHARY SCOTT HAMILTON
  • JULIA LAXER
  • SUDEEP ADHIKARI
floor no. 3
mannequin haus////////////

Jacklyn Janeksela

The decade long love spell/ ms.w/  nightbirthing rituals





​

 
the decade long love spell
 
ages : it seems : at least a decade : or more : some spells
take longer than others to hatch
 
parody like poetry like pebbles or peddlers
teeter/totter the petal on stems on sticks on stones
 
filter the moon through a jar or a wing _ punch _
 
on the chopping block of wood or metal or flesh
wheeled in an uncherished heart
: beat the buried backyard breast of a beetroot bulb :
belazabub tiptoes on the singed edge of an epoch
childhood spell ° poof °
 
/fays, we sway//beams, we bounce/
 
clocks choir clouds for rain |pow|
a storm stampedes like zodiac creatures
 

 

ms. w
 
murs the cattail as it glides along water
where i find you carving letters in the palm of your hand –a tree
 
moon //my only other non-self//
star //seek truth, acute rhythms//
wolf //where our ladies feed//
 
a willowed-refuge in a bramble bush; covering secret legions
who whisper our names –sisters






nightbirting rituals
 
cresent & crescending, the fingernail trails a line along faces
until it reaches a hole where i’ve been hiding
rested & wrestling, i crawl towards a light that i know is ours
the second full moon of our cycle : be thee thankful for days
 
blueish but not blue : tinkering on a willow branch : it’s sky
like my father’s eye : or is it my brother’s : Capricorn rising :
the thread of a sweater of a surgery of a birth
 
if i could only fit my fat head through the tunnel .  then  . 
i could be life.
 
earthen it rolls : sparks a fire if dry : enough, that’s blasphemy : swishing
hair like fish fins or dangling drapery : it’s a strand of my mother : is it is me :
the Virgo wig binding : bound me to a brown i’ve never been before
 
if i could yell out a name  .  it .  she  .  we  .
could be night.
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