West Ambrose


God damn you—


Speak to me in

forked tongues and semaphore,

show me what you like to

dress up in and I’ll curl my hair,


it will be such a pretty little affair;


like Lady Chatterley but queerer,

like Mrs. Dalloway but more parties,

like the war poets but less running around

all over, covered in mud,


 (but keep the nightmares,

we always keep the nightmares


closer; hold me through them,

taste me, fuck me, pet my hair

and talk to me long after

they’re done,)


save me, drink the poison

from my pale lips then


die with me

in this unfathomable casket

called Longing:


I sit up all night, reading

The History Of Your Life—

and caught

between myths


I cry,


we’ll always be strangers.




West Ambrose is a writer and grad student. They are trans, queer, and disabled/chronically ill. They are fascinated by the works of Herman Melville and in their free time love to find weird old teapots and make granola bars that are both vegan and duck-friendly. Their twitter is @westofcanon and their website is where you can find their creative works inspired by antiquity and classic lit.