When you spit on my cunt it is like you’ve dug your teeth in Granny Smith, the spray of nectar… Your tongue is an inchworm. This body, humming at your touch like rubber can be peeled. I think you know that now, where the center hides… … There are no flowers here. This body is a wasps’ nest. As it closes in you press your palms to the outside of my womb and from the inside rise millions of pricks, like bread to heat, or grass to stormclouds. You come back red and gasping. There is honey here. I think you know that, too…

Brenya Gommel (she/her) lives in the Philly suburbs with her dog, Faye Valentine. She has previously been published in MUSES and Red Between the Lines. In her spare time she enjoys watching Dr. Katz, ideally for several hours at a time.

substack.com/@alltheouts