you hold me
when i am coming apart
when i break you fill the seams
with gold
there are pieces missing
but you light a candle
inside me
light streams out
where my pieces are absent
though empty i am full of light
floating and leaving no trace
you hold me
when i am coming apart
when i break you fill the seams
with gold
there are pieces missing
but you light a candle
inside me
light streams out
where my pieces are absent
though empty i am full of light
my skin crawls on feet
like needles like icicles
and every bone under my skin
wants to break
they bend and twist and
i’m awash in heat and cold
and all i want is sleep
or nothing
it wasn’t the end
but it was an ending
a significant pause
that turned into
a significant silence
no return to
the easily constructed
papier-mâché future
whimsical joy-filled towers
poorly engineered
made of something thinner than tissue
the first rains damaged them
the last rains
tore them apart
beautiful even in
wet, sodden disrepair
the fog makes ghosts
of the christmas lights
and our footsteps
colder than normal morning
my breath leaves a trail
in the air
when i find her
–a monarch butterfly–
still
all stillness and perfect
and beautiful
on the ground
i say over and over
“oh no”
as if she can hear me
or respond
when i pick up her
she doesn’t move
or flutter her wings
there is no attempt to escape
i blow warm air over her
willing her to be asleep
stunned by the cold
but no amount of air
from the furnace
that is my lungs
that is my heart
can stir her
brilliant orange wings
her smooth black body
and i take her small death
harder than i have taken
many larger ones
i lay her to rest
near the new plants
the sea will, without notice
become smooth, less glass or ice
than a total cessation
of all movement–some of us
trapped beneath, others above
ah, as above, so below
who will be the envy of whom
the trees in dark descend
as the sun rends earth from light
but with slow, gentle touch
like a baby’s first haircut
the sky and clouds pink
like young skin
it builds in the chest and
oddly
the feet
in the ears
and in the hands
a thousand invisible mice
stampeding through your organs
you lose
the ability to foc
us the world reaches you–
when the world reaches you–
noises
through cotton filled
ears
and all you can feel
is your heart
trying to tear itself
out of your chest
and your skin
shifting over your muscles
trying to lift off
the bones
and leave you
a puddle
in this darkened place
i put my arm around you
–sunlight finds a seam
something catches in my throat
something pulling the muscles
to contract
something hinders my fingers
as they type
something whispering
some thing
and closing my eyes makes them burn
makes river burn down my cheek
makes my breath shudder
and i
something is wrong
some thing is wrong
and it clatters and hisses
and i catch my breath and give it
the finger
and type