person Agnieszka Mauch, two poems

Agnieszka Mauch hails from Poland. She dabbles in writing, nature photography, and linguistics.

~

FURTHER DISRUPTIONS

Snow’s vibrating
my body is the age of wounds

I once made a girl fall and it was initiation

I should abhor myself
for even daring

I was gradable
I should have one level of me now, I think
I swim like Anne
I can’t
move my arms enough to create a
notion of the sea

it’s the acid that makes us speak up
makes us float

one day
silence will correct me
not exclude me

~

IT’S ALWAYS THE SMALL THINGS

The shadow house is open

all rooms butchered
to the gore
of emptiness

A moon in the pond of the living room
is grinning
it has a face like thistles,
teeth like sightings at 3 am

it feeds me this setup
each time
I am torn apart like some door
to a revered space

sobbing out glass and blood

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