Loose lips slit wrists
on the dashboard of our bathroom floor
darling these bodies are too heavy to hold,
this skin we wear
for disguise
is only covering the night.

You can’t remember the stars
for want of mirroring the moon,
I’m here to tell you
you’ll never shine
like her,
effortlessly
in the scattered dark.

So sew up your wrists
before the stars spill out
from your pretty little veins
that glow
in the dark.
—

Nicolette Daskalakis is an award-winning filmmaker, poet, and multi-media artist residing in Los Angeles. She received a BA in film production from the USC School of Cinematic Arts and a minor in Intermedia Arts from the Roski School of Art & Design. Her first book, “because you’re now banging a French girl,” was published in 2015.