google search me

google search me under Ingrid Calderon and 
the girl with no eyebrows appears, 
crooked stance, 
straight smile—
a carving in 
the fold of 
her cleavage/
 
google search me under Ingrid M. Calderon-Collins
and the woman with eyebrows appears,
spine erect, 
crooked smile—
a carving in 
the fold of 
her cleavage/
 
still, 
everything is
unhappiness 
and happiness
still lives 
in the breasts 
of my laughter,
poison 
sometimes cures, 
and 
when it doesn’t,
it resembles bread 
squished between palms,
blood on nailbeds and 
scars from when I mattered 
so much I gave up my ability 
to feel.
 
google search me but don’t believe 
the flowers in my mouth or between my teeth,
lies stain the screen,
poems cause disease
a disease called, 
I have something to say, LISTEN TO ME!”
regardless if it’s
an earthquake 
or a longing, 
or a plagiarized lick of an envelope
 
 
 
 
 
 

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