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︎︎︎ Bauhausfrau

︎ Apr 16, 2026

If not for my cellmates I might be committed.
Fine binds hug us from animate flesh.
To recount the arrows, or those we've permitted,
I sheathe while I grieve all the rest.

Well peered are our children, found intimates weave.
Squeeze bonding between dye-free frosting.
We bear filtered cross-loads with slacked joie de vivre
And the grace to not dwell what it's costing.

Fat fists clink small china, wide-eyed to gild chains,
Distributing counter declines.
Tethered and tightened to what good remains
So the loads bear us hardier lines.




















Bauhausfrau is a writer living in the South with her husband and several young children.

Also by Bauhausfrau: Ted K at the feed and seed