I'm up and over the edge and this question comes to me.
I break on the bank of this paltry image of you.
Stand in the wake of the rare thing that can be
the beginning of becoming.
Stick straight, out and around,
it flows through me now.
Interesting relationship I have to unknowing.
my ghost haunts this land overrun with consequential yearning one year stretched into a lifetime of sweet, soft pain built a life on emotional solitude look back at a body that stinks of the dead I'm not used to this undoing ends of a plastic cord melted with
light covered darkness spills out in a cool breath anchor in knowing and loving difficulty hiding this truth in metaphor anoint myself to a new journey slick skin stretching with time distance myself from the valley over twisted lines
Cut blind, make an excuse for what it is that I have. Lift out, duck under, this doesn't feel like a jab. Scrape quick, out of the bottom for some of the useful stuff. Ache and moan, bitch and grown, now I know when I've had
In the same way we've always been, we are one. I can't explain this to anyone, I don't want to even try. I'm here and I'm alone, and I'm there and I never am. I'm allowed