into you and
it felt like the womb
I had left 5
days early.
I crawled
under you
like winter cats in car tires

I dropped my steel and stayed
in your waters, risking air
but I had your air

I didn’t need to hear words with
your ears, but your body was never mine—
it wasn’t even yours

and there’s nothing like being
called a misogynist
by a person that has spit
in your face, banged their head on
your walls, fucked a girl that wasn’t you,
took your steel and built a sword.

Image credit:Jane Fox

Jess Kangas is a strawberry siren poet raised outside NYC. She lived in upstate NY for years and has now relocated down South to teach high school English in North Carolina. She has been featured on PoetryCircle, and Califragile. Her poetry focuses on love, heartbreak, sex, and the strange. She works in stream of consciousness. Her poetry is rich in sound, structure and secrets.