4
Two poems by Chelsea jones
Smudge-violets
I want smudged eyes and violets every time you smell the nape of my neck
activated charcoal, rose clay, ketamine with cocaine
please kill me before you stop accepting my gifts
smother, and wither, and joke
false pretense of recklessness
death wish disguised as a plan
I breathe in to feel the singe
crackle
I breathe in
all ruins more urgent than new developments
all paths that go in circles and smell of must
she drove past and told me white poppies—“this but”
I will lick the blood off my arms for you
I will turn you into the flat-affect creature you wish to be
I will do it all by myself
You cannot ignore that sex is traumatic for all women
and my trauma will make you pay.