I say we’ll have to bury horses
soon. You say it’s more work
than for two people.
You need to dig deep or
the bodies move,
hooves break ground
like teeth
through gums.
We hold these secrets
under our tongues like spit.
We jumped fences, started fires,
burned your father’s tools
the first day we met. You watched
me eat the pages, swallow
my history in pieces. We practiced
saying each other’s names
and locking doors behind us.
Entering the same red rooms
ten years later to tell you
I too hold these cloven parts.

Originally from central Florida, MJ Santiago currently lives and works in New York. Their work has appeared in Reservoir Lit, Heavy Feather Review, and No, Dear Magazine. Their first chapbook, baby knife, is forthcoming from tenderness, yea in April 2018.