Consider Me Feral
Tara Kustermann
Hold me while I scream
in church. Burn me,
cast every wine-dark stone.
I am no longer afraid to dye
my clothes in men’s blood
& suck on stained fingers.
Your worship is an inverted deer—
ribs splintered, bones splayed
like thighs scraping hips,
antlers weeping blood.
I scrape my soft parts
out & bury them.
Kiss me like flames
to a heretic. I bear witch-blood
& I will embrace
it. I’ve mixed holy water
into my lip balm—our next kiss
is the last. Consider me feral.
Tara Kustermann is an emerging writer living on Florida’s Space Coast while she attends the University of Central Florida. Her work appears or is forthcoming in Star*Line and Dirty Girls Magazine. Find her online @NoTaraHere on Twitter or at www.tarakustermann.com.