carrion | Poetry

Nicole Adabunu

the dead deer we saw on the way to your place, brain knitted wet outside its chest, once lighthouse twice blooded, pulse instinct. a body shot out of its head quarters. every car’s a fan tonight, slowing to watch a heartbeat unheat itself. who do we rot back to? steel aluminum stare, ants crawling the iced unblinking. the radio’s playing a song about getting undressed. wanting someone down to the...