Dylan McNulty-Holmes | poetry | Nyctinasty


She tucks her coinages
Into late afternoons, cooking, thinking:
Someone has to
Bite down. 	Will I be cleaved neatly?

Will this hint of ostentation
Swarm into black smoke? Will she be first
To lick my armpits and feet, cover me in glitter?
Will this hint of ostentation 
Signal my insecurity, incite me to,
Almost certainly, die?
Will I be sharp, a whiplash?
Will I save all the plants? Have I somewhere to be?

Answer: I am loved
at the pace of real life.  Preserve
this darkness that falls around 
us—	How many
burials, into chests, into pillows— 
I must have been asleep for many hundreds of seconds 
to have noticed:
When I turned away from you
Towards my plastic cup of wine 	

Beeper Peddle is a writer and healer living on the East Coast. She lives with her partner and their beloved soul puppy. Beeper writes about sorrows, lies, and deep loves. When you read her work, you will dip down into her heart and end up in all manner of body parts. Should you find yourself reflected in these words, it is merely coincidence; however, it does not surprise her you share the same heart. Find her at bethpeddle.com and @beeperpeddle on Twitter and Instagram

Dylan McNulty-Holmes (he/they) is a writer and editor from the UK, currently based in Berlin. His writing has been made into a T-shirt, live-scored by a disco band, and added to the permanent digital archive of the British Library. It has also been featured by (or is forthcoming with) Redivider, Anomaly, and Pilot Press, and was shortlisted for 2022 New Media Writing Prize. More of his work can be found at dylanmcnultyholmes.com.