As fainting
into stoveflame.
Brokenhearted.
Take a forceful breath at
the window. Our faces
frame
the glass. And falling, falling.
Mouth sounds
steeped in milky
thoughts. Downward
with the purpose
of terminal
velocity. Find us a cliff
where storms lose
their way.
Feet splayed
at the
utter edge.
But today. But far from home. Where
vivid green, the sky hung in shreds.
Here the people I knew as friends, they
hide their eyes, tell me to fall into
the river and return to early nature as
an incautious spirit. My haunted
visions of flight wash away to mother’s
sea. Does God want me to put on my wedding
suit? Eat every bite of cake down to the
ivory plate? But not cake and not a wedding.
A cemetery fills my hand. I’ve gone
back in time to the birth of the world
and a tendon morning and promises
lost in midday circles. To drag my heels
along the circus boulevard. Curve
down into valley’s shade. Removed
from you and everyone else.
And or.
