i open my hands & eat the bird inside the ball of light, the song of the bird of the devil burns a
hole in my body & out of it a streak of feathers
the air too thick
the air too raw
there is no way to ruffle out.
only mariah whistling in another world conducts my travel across worlds
her note like a butterfly reaches the gravestone
a horizon before the death of the bird
to dilate my hole when the angels seep in.
my angel
tell me what planet you’re on
the sun leaking from all sides
a flowy skirt purchased on avenida 9 de julho
the cloud wisps rosy, purple over time
a wail at the end of the song like
a bird calling out of the ground
pabllo comes to me
bearing gifts from maranhão
a bowl of açai on her head
spread out like a peacock starring the sky
scaring my dick
but you don’t need it
pabllo sings to me
using all her light tricks like switchblades
breastless icon against a constellation up high
by the power vested in her
by the might of her muscled thighs
i step midway to pabllo’s mid-astral body of light
the sign of the cross in the air
flesh choreographed in flight
lunar minerals in her throat
unextractable
to beat the horizon drumlike
to beam vertically & horizontally
thru the streak of her star
from a bleeding sun to our country of
killer transphobes & homophobes
extinct fish swimming in the coral reef
of pabllo’s heart
unto streams real because imagined
please help me translate
my hole when she cries
i beg pabllo
meu anjo
pabllo repeats
me diz em que planeta
você está