“organic compound produced in animal bodies to regulate activity and behavior,” 1905, from Greek hormon, a robot pharmaceutical voicing singing your prescription is ready into a landline answering machine. cvs drawer of cocktails; vials the size of my thumb. my mother holding a sack of syringes & happy hour sauvignon blanc spiked with machismo. from: hands curled over thin prescription bag paper. from: unshirting my deformed body & snagging a pocket of skin between my middle & index fingers. carving a cave into my stomach with a needle, flaunting its teeth & welcoming lovers into a hollowed-out disco.
Matt Mitchell is a gluten-free, heartbroken, intersex writer living in Columbus, Ohio. He is the author of the forthcoming poetry collection, The Neon Hollywood Cowboy (Big Lucks, 2021).
Photography by: Ali Jouyandeh