Counting Forgetfulness

there were repetitions. the mind thrives on such things. there was wind. and water. and struggle. always the struggle is what calibrates the flesh.

the pain found its way to the surface. deaf comedians telling their jokes in clubs and whips. as if bone and blood can articulate what is living.

the wait wore her easily. loose fabric gathering in all the wrong places.

the edge of the road narrowed. the way back home choked. every mile another knot in the lengthening noose.

she gladly let the laughter spend her. confident in reciprocity, surrender, or both.

eagerly she negotiated the poisons. moments of paradise snatched from hell's kiss.

there was closeness. and distance. this is the paradox of intimacy. or what we mistake for it.

I go too far.

this my strength. and my weakness.