Poetry by Veronica Bennett

                         ​Alexandru Paraschiv CC



WOUND 

                   permeation 
we open on an attack─ 
you’ve startled a choleric cur 
the fluids swell, and then spill 
you feel the point of impact 
distinctly, for only a moment, 
and tucked behind your lungs 
                                            pervasion 
an awful welt forms 
slimy and leaking rosy 
discharge 
the cruor sizzles, 
settling into place 
your lungs ache 
perversion 
the scab is now the shade of 
satisfied flea 
it crawls, 
dry skin begging to be grated 
─pick 
dig 
satisfy 
                                      perturbation 
a puce husk of blood and skin 
plummets 
to the calluses on your heels 
blood follows, 
shrieking with glee 
                personification 
plasma has re-claimed your 
body, 
curling around your organs 
molten and greedy─ 
your body succumbs 
you are immobilized





THANK YOU 

i wept last night. 
you climbed on top of me 
best weighted blanket in the world 
and resigned all of your body weight to me until 
i couldn’t help but start giggling 

you told me that my pillows are too fluffy 
as you always do 
i kissed your cheek 
told you that i had some cardboard that you could use, instead 
you called me an ass & kissed the bridge of my nose 
we dozed off with our limbs intertwined 

this morning, i crawled out of our warm bed to make you coffee 
my bedroom door groaned 
i glanced at you to make sure you hadn’t awoken 
but you were already holding your arms out 
languidly beckoning, eyes heavy-lidded 
lips slipping into a contented smile 

i found myself under the covers again





VENUS 

i am venus 
crouching 
ashen belly rolls adored 
thirty bucks a peek 

i used up all my vinegar 
scrubbing my surfaces 
brilliant 
there has never been so much sun! 

i am the best at everything 
i do, so 
maybe i’ll bake bread 
and let it rise on the windowsill 

maybe i’ll bake bread, 
before things start to grow too big 
and my bedroom squirms around me, 
the weeds from the curb sneaking in my window, 
my ripe hoodie fusing to my skin 
my hangnails will metastasize to my forearms 
as massive ghost-clouds taunt 
“you’re nothing!”
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Veronica Bennett was born and raised in Houston, where she lives with her cat, Handlebar. She is completing her B.A. in Creative Writing at the University of Houston. This is Veronica's first time being published. When she isn't writing about her feelings, you can find Veronica making people lattes and shouting into the void on Twitter (@vabnt).

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