sofia sears / poem

Composite Organisms

is just another way to say entangled. Pink horizons braiding

into a single island of salt, heat, light. All the trees swarmed

with lichen, green lace swallowing bone, brightening

dead bark. We sat in his car, let the dark and the waves and the curtain

of warm noise swallow us, gore us backwards.

A firefly in his vein— I’ll cut it open,

let crimson light flood the room. I’ll tell the truth. I’ll bite

through my own instincts, that cold voice hissing hide,

choke on the torn glass

of his fingers, turn on the heater. I’ll cut it open. I’ll

wait till entangled froths

at our ankles, reddens our mouths, I’ll wait

till we can’t make out any horizon

besides the bright sting of his hand in my hair, trying

to separate the strands, and failing, again

and again.

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Sofia (Sof) Sears (they/them) is a queer, horror-obsessed writer from Los Angeles. Their work has been featured or is forthcoming in publications such as Diagram, Sonora Review, Waxwing, LA Times, and others. You can find their work at sofsears.com. Their Instagram is @heart.mouth and their Twitter is @sofesears.