Self-Portrait as Hymenopus Coronatus Curled Inside a Thai Orchid
on the coast I see ribbon braids like war banners
with stars & bows & sharp beads that resemble
medusoid beasts not hissing upright & grey
but noble & neon jewel-fitted like relics
with stars & bows & sharp beads that resemble
tiered cakes and rose custards when coiled
in chignons : noble & neon jewel-fitted like relics
as a child I begged my mom to adorn my head
like a tiered cake or rose custard when coiled
for ballet or war : pops of pink & peach thread
& as a child I begged my mom to adorn my head
Freud wrote that braiding is the arena of women
like ballet & war : pops of pink & peach thread
all colors that screech their arrival from afar
Freud wrote that braiding is the arena of women
the only craft we both invented & truly mastered
we weave colors that screech their arrival from afar
like the orchid mantis ripping the head off her mate
the only craft we both invented & truly mastered
a patient assassin disguised within a ready blossom
there’s the orchid mantis ripping the head off a butterfly
because inside of each woman’s bun is a weapon :
a patient assassin disguised within a ready blossom
see the ribbon braids like war banners, all sharp stars & bows.
