LIGHTS OUT TEA
My mind is a cast iron cauldron that smokes
late into the night. These fancy thoughts
flickering into sunspots. Hot & vibrating—
He says my twilight insomnia “is payment
to the Nine Muses.” But my waxing and
his waning circadian rhythms have kept our
flesh apart too long. We search for a dreamer’s
brew together. Hibiscus red hearts. Peppermint
leave lips. Soft lavender touch. His tongue sweet
with licorice. My midnight black hair crowned
with chamomile. Our embrace a root dose of
UNDER THE WEIGHTED BLANKET
I’ve been possessed by anxiety lately.
Brought my shadow into our daybed.
Tossing & turning under the comforters.
He offers to cradle me under his body
when the witching hour visits. Whisper
angel oracle cards into my pierced ears.
Wrap his sunkissed arms around my
waist & catch my soul when it falls out
of nightmares. Remember I’m here—
when the wisdom teethdrop onto
my tongue when the bloodhounds
chase after my heels when I’m
chauffeured in the back of a motorbike
hearse —just open your sleepy eyes
& find me with a warming sunrise.
Leona Wilde is a poet returning from a long hiatus after slaying her suburban demons. Her work has appeared in multiple literary magazines, including Prairie Margin, Squalorly, and Eunoia Review. She is currently working on two chapbooks about trauma and healing that will be free to read on her website (wilderush.com). She can be found on Instagram and Twitter under wilderush.