Hannah Silva


There was nothing inside her. If I knew what I was saying I wouldn’t be able to speak. I’d like you to take your clothes off.

Loving another I have disappeared. Deepened, pushed open, trampled on in bare feet bring the black body down on mine it isn’t green grass they are laughing

breasts nipples look ignorant, stupid, like a man with his tongue hanging out. Distended without entrance, they can’t breathe, bleed. There is mud on your shoes.

Playtime, winged baby. Life scooped out and up like vanilla ice-cream but it smells of fish. Fingering linger pinch.

My body is too terrible to speak of, it climbs itself, it is a collapsible ladder a rib rack of solos from the peak watching it swim away naked. This longing

is a fake ruby a toy jewel pressed against my cheek I should be thrashed and wrapped up in bandages and left alone in darkness to think.