She texts you ‘ily’
But would she peel a pomegranate for you?
Would she bloody her own fingers, one by one
Peeling back skin and sinew, her own Bartholomew?
Would she? Martyr and transmute herself
Again and again, to suit your every need?
Perhaps she wouldn’t have to,
Perhaps just being close to you
Is enough to make that top ten list.
An ego that is oftener kissed than true love’s lips
That shape around each bursting seed.
Shameless as Eve, figless, fingers digging deep
Into fertile mother earth, among worms
Amoeba and miasma of Creation’s innocence.
The thing that makes me so damn anxious
Without alchemical assistance leeching my blood
Sparking like new life into my brain.
One of Michael Angelo’s dissected,
Ready for the knife,
Honey cakes in either hand.
assie Frisbie (they/she) is a 23 year old poet, aesthete, artist, and plant mom based in Springfield, Missouri. Inspired by both classic Romantic and midcentury Confessional poetry, she seeks to blend these styles into something deeply personal, that puts words to their utmost test, touches the hearts of readers through imagery they can relate to, and honor through artistry the most basic point of language: to make one understand. Cassie lives – of course – in Springfield, with her husband Michael, their tuxedo kitten Colette, and her myriad plant children.
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