if you sliced my sister open

you’d find New York there

carved on her rib bones, burnt crest & center

 

among sparkling organs.

she complained of lumps forming,

gutted crystal growing under healthy skin, bruised purples dyeing smooth canvas

 

until: fizzling city,

while the stars popped like bubbles in the air pinprick & dotted,

jewelry box soda

 

& the streets turned amethyst,                                 

& lamplight turned sparkle,

& she became mineral for hair.

 

how the world turned & we still forgot.

her insides allocated crystals—

stone limbs, hard chest.

 

everyone said she had to be split in half

to be beautiful

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