"poem for naomi"

by Zoe Goldstein (they/she)

poem for naomi

my sister-sibling is dyeing their eyebrows. i place

goggles over their eyes, they brush bleach

over their brows. in stage 1 their eyebrows disappear & i

unrecognize them for a moment. their forehead waits

like good creamy sketchpaper.

my siblingsister is waiting for dye to settle become

natural. they grin at me in the mirror then uncap

this fat green marker. they scribble on our toothpasted

reflections until we are surrounded by rhizome swirls until we can’t see

our soapy skin because we are growing underground with grubby roots with grubby feet

planted on black & white tile they tell me you can move

through lots of places at once.

my sli bing ssits er sponges off purplish dye skinstains

& to while away our waiting we brush our sharpteeth with electricity,

excavate stories from the roots of our gums. flossing back & forth in triangles speaking

around the cat’s cradle of minty flosser strings & plastic sharp-ends

sharp enough to whet our teeth. i tell them be relentless so that we are always prepared

to bite with intention.

my is bigger than a house but they crouch i crouch. stage 2 is done: we wipe off the

mirror to reveal: two caterpillars one pink one blue. wiggling across their forehead. for a next

step they rub emu oil on their third eye & anoint my nosetip too. this is not a final step this will stimulate joy

& hair growth

& connect 2

into endlessness