Tuesday 5/23/2017 01:39:00 AM

the rain was sufficient. the well was dug. soft ampersands spent our choices. wet slippers under the bed and cold pots left on the stove.

flesh is a merchant. a peddler. acutely in need of profit.

there's always a way there. there's usually a detour. a picnic of skin. a murder of faces. miles to go. no surrender.

let the shimmer slip. press down on gravity's thigh. all the messy words that tell us we're still living.

names she took. voices she manipulated. it was so loud. until it wasn't.

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