I forget your name is cut from mine. You’re not as I remember you.
The cell is the fabric of the macrocosm. Cords couple the living and the dead.
Bowing draws the notes taut. The snow falls and falls. Vomit encrusts their duct taped lips. Buckle and keen into their glassed eyes. The throat enters as violins to limn you like a portal. This is the end I asked for.
It’s winter in my heart. Hey baby. How you feeling? Disengagement. Frames into other worlds speaking through mirrors. Who’s outside. The statement is a question.
Birds dismantle a surfacing whale. We peer from its ribcage. Does a community of mutual indifference constitute a community? Your disembodied voice deflects, consumes the walls.
Future I feel in my body. I try to give it words but my grief defies shape. The smoke grows inside you. The taste of earth on your tongue spreading.
Your eyes are green. Mine are brown. Shovel of nesting, shovel of dirt.
We’ll arrive on the day of your birth. Gentleness is enough to coax a sob you won’t release. I translate your tongue without foreknowledge. The timing of my healing offsets a continuum of field. Everybody lay down. Taper the grass with your fingers. Fall through.
It’s almost your birthday. Your hair is gilt. We were born on the same day. I lose myself in the embrace.
Through a corona that doubles as a gate. Doubles as a frame. Doubles as a portal. Doubles as a crown.
Fear blocks grief from exiting your body. Put it under your pillow and dream about its power.
I braid your hair in a complex system of breathwork. This is the temple. This is the bear. This is the storyline of desire. June is the zenith. You’ll never be brighter.
Drop the curtains. The day is unspeakable.Continue reading