cross everything out
and start over.
lie down and cover
yourself with light.
there once was a sea
and the sea was as slick
as oil.
as smooth as your hair
pulled taut into braids
that lie politely on
your back.
smoke pours out
of the ocean
and my eyes burn.
they are as red
as the old barn.
the plates have been tossed
from their shelves
and I have no intention
of picking up those pieces.
this is how you shatter a rose.
you will stand in the doorway
with all its chipping paint
and tell me that this, this here
is the beginning of the end.
I promise I will not believe you.
I sing all night and wait
for my voice to come back
to me from those eaves,
like a boomerang, like a lover.
I think even the stone
is ringing. I press my face
to the marble floor.
I am drowning
in the grasses
that grow here.
each blade a psalm,
a prayer I’ve forgotten.
I want to love something so much
that it turns back to thread.
Unravel something so solid.
In my jaw, I keep constellations.
Yes, I have taken ownership of the stars
and they belong huddled beneath these teeth.
Where the light shines through,
I can see where the decay starts
and where it will ultimately end.
when I walk through your neighborhood,
I hold all of my bones in my pockets.
it is difficult to move, let alone
step over all those cracks in the sidewalk.
I think about how many backs I’ve broken
and imagine that these train tracks
that rumble above the street are vertebrae.
A bone bridge to the next rambling intersection.
I stare into the eyes of someone who is not you.
I feel nothing. We are lit matches.
I opened my jewelry box
and all the birds
I’ve ever known
flew out.
Their wings were dusty,
but their hearts were full.
Everything is more beautiful
because we’re doomed.
You will never be lovelier
than you are now.
We will never be here again.
I sent my mother
pictures of ceramic hands
reaching out to touch
every last inch of skin.
we curled up
in the backseat
of my Buick.
I waited for answers,
for a reason to go back home.
I watched you pluck the lilacs
from a cracked vase and devour
the entire bunch.
you smile. there are bits of petals
stuck in all those gaps that the wind
always tries to whistle though.
your hair is a shipwreck. your mouth
is a field of wheat. your eyes fall
somewhere between dawn
and morning.
