immolate

the first step
to sadness is to
have.

[3]

poseidon
punctuates the bruised
shorelines with broken hearts and
shattered abelone
shell fragments.
sometimes the
shore creeps up, kisses
my feet. sometimes he rips through
the distance between
us, taking
what's his.

[5]

the air here
vibrates to a fire,
sparrow's heart humming in c
major. it does scare
me sometimes,
how i might love you
more than ibuprofen, or
the way the light might
oscillate
through an ether storm.

the person i am now is
not compatible
with who i
was before you. but
how do i scrape myself out
from under my own
fingernails?

[7]

we caught the
moon between our feet,
heads falling behind us.

[5]

things i will
remember about
you: how you can't stop wearing
lemongrass and how
the smell hides
away under your
collarbone; the way you wear
saturn on your ring
finger and
keep neptune's rings as
keepsakes when you come back from
the sky [to remind
yourself that
my favorite colour
is you.]

[3]

[the structure of anger spins out in chaos]

my mind is a constant repetition of the logarithm of 2am to base silence.
the answer is always, "gone".

we become like each other,
me and resentment,

and we do it so easily.

[your hair, spun sugar.]