I, phantom limb, sense there's mo re

to miss than flesh.


Laugh along with Go

d, pick

at scabs, wrinkle my nose.


Notice

sunsets, grab for mothers' hands, choke

on water.

You painted me pink and gold, wrapped around me ribbons of it to become my skin, my hair, ribbon. Would let the loose ends fly, too. For windy days, i was a private ballet, swirls and leaps with me, standing there, watching you, enjoy.

Ran, i
{ r { a } n }
with my heart beating, beating, beating I
Think.
and in my running , a thought   !~<    Ripped    >~!   into my chest as I threw myself                                                           ­                                                                 ­                                                      Forwards:
t­hat I would perpetually toss myself out
                                                             ­        w i n d o W s
for Him.
the whole of my insignificant existence.

because I haven't yet.

I, the earth, have been neglecting my soils

//

There's a calendar on my ceiling that's not really there but I sit underneath and count the hours (which wouldn't be there either but (I count and while I count I hold my breath and I pray ~knowing no god~ I pray for and end, end, end,

i just wanted for you to run me
over with your sugary words and
bold gait and you did, by god, you
ran me straight into the ground so
that i linger along the walls and in
the cracks under the pavement and
how could i
do this
to
me

you touched my soul and then you laughed.

Been travelling rogue
It lights my tongue on fire, it
Suits me well, i find

Mornings bring [aches] that
don't go away with time, nights are
restless limbs, cold fingertips. Your lips^-
sunrise. Exhale. An existence of perpetual
sleep, yet I fear to close these eyes
lest your skin touch mine in dreams.
Pause. You'd think time would have
been enough to grow new bones (echo of
crunched snow, blooming sky), but you've been
hiding in the wrinkles of my
knuckles and laughing at me as I
stare too long at old houses, avoid
reflections, count the panes in my
bedroom windows again. Dear.
~
I will surpass you.

Delicate now, I lay my bones out one by one. The first is found to contain a colony of bees. Another is home to a sparrow which comes and goes through a hole pecked 1.5 inches in diameter. A third has fully succumbed to dust and is held in a cloud-shaped jar which fluctuates in ways of shape, as is the habit of cloud-like entities.

When time has come to dissect my skull, I call out one last entreaty of the physical world: a dinner invitation. Serving out a platter of ****** features, I cease to exist.

The devil has been in my bed-
Shouts with loud eyes, cures sickness with teeth that keep growing,
Licks my neck.
*
I have been away from home for too long, I
dream of rivers, of fathers with soft voices, of magic,
Where skyline and city puddle together with twinkling light,

where no one's afraid of the dark.

i look for you on city sidewalks, fourth floors, and various astral planes - you
aren't one to make yourself known but
leave clues like
                               1.    leaves in the autumn wind
                               2.    period novels
                               3.    the occasional lottery number

I want to go back to my roots,
to playgrounds and sunsets, soft grasses.
To silky skin, where winds blew
pink and unfamiliar. To before.

One day, I woke to find you lodged in my chest.
You had peeled back the skin in surgical fashion, then driven in
like a stake, flush with the sternum.
What am I to do with a man between my lungs?

I clean the wound as best I can and wait for your next move.