we fizz our bloodstreams
and collect heavily spliced
ice picks from our subsidiaries;
we rethink our reconnaissance mission
to the planet of burnt rubber.
then swallow apricots by the halves;
we are present in the foremost and the underlying.
we are demarcated — red streams.
crooked incisors gnash
against a pliant tongue;
her throat craves
the boreal taste of
iced oolong tea.
synthetic frames delineate
the shape of her palatable eyes —
manifest in adhesives
and newly-read obituaries.
she claims that there is no rush.
no warranty. no sin in not being
that she will learn to
respect herself when the
Camille Castro, 18, is an incoming sophomore at the University of Guam. Her work has recently appeared on Sprout Magazine.