10.12.24
When I think of Pauline screaming my heart slips and I remember being clumsy with your dead body, knowingknowing you were still there zooming around the room scared but listening
everyone was there who needed to be and not me, hoping to feel something at the bar, in therapy, walkingthenrunning not all of us there where was Aken, was he there? Gech there
Gech—I was clumsy my hat hitting your head scared dead I won’t remember what I said
I focused on being halved—who was there? We’ve all heard a scream, I thought, it’s a hospital
we’re a hospitalwe’re full of screams, where’s Aken? I’m sorry, I know—, but what about weeks earlier, weeks ago youwerecominghome, you were coming home andthen
your breath the death rattle, the dies what lies with him is
11.1.24
all my life I’ve been a tall glass of red wine wanting to sit heavy in you: bold beneath your throat: a memory teeming: I’m afraid I can’t stop telling everyone about you but I’m so undone by you, someone I look forward to touch again, to remember as we once were I can’t help but make noise about it something about my life ready for the texture of yours. whatever comes next I know the water will carry the fire will carry, you a sound I want you to make. your lap, my head rested curious, intoxicated with relief.
whatever plays on the screen something we both enjoy something to carry us toward our moment, inevitable, the way I open and close you the person I couldn’t imagine there kneeling beside me fixing my protective cloak, the night something you asked to sit by me through, this moment my own earth moving to rest beside you; whatever language I learn for you is another ocean born which is good for the soil. I hope we can talk about burial, wonder, and having many hearts capable of wanting many hearts and that hurting except in the night when suffering is holy.
11.1.24
