Jay Degenhardt

cw// body horror, trauma, deadnaming

My old | name you found with | eyes
too keen | set on a narrative
An idea of a night | Adaptive intent
  |
    |

You said my sign | name was an O
To demonstrate | you pushed your index
finger into my chest and
drew a circle

| Later
I imagined | you carved a cylinder
end to end through my flesh
|which you would do
eventually | or had done

And now this slippery | altered
thing you don’t know | how to hold |
and haven’t | held