11/11/17, 1:54am

The first time, we were coming
down. Surreal, soft: I am yellow
and she is brown and you
are gleaming, you are all gleaming.

I am a pendulum: disbelief/wonder/disbelief.
Who could you possibly think I am?

Fairy lights and jaunty conversation
about your day your day your day and this
is how I find out your parents
dogs / apple muffin mix / hospitality with a drawl
were in town to see everyone
every one every single one: oh, you say
they just love love loved everyone: my love
love love who am I if not at least
a part of the definition
of your everyone — it passes,
flashes, and I wonder wonder if
the knife was yours
or just another on the path
I walk to be by your concrete.

I know we know maybe you know you you all
don’t know don’t know what it’s like to be un
unworthy by unknown rules
uninteresting by assumption
unwelcome unwelcome unwelcome
by default I know I know I know
but how could you not
even try

Frank Ocean fucks me up consistently:
sure, sometimes I look you up
peruse the life you run, the one
I hear about when it’s paused, the people
you see who are like you
gleaming, always gleaming. Love, you
whispered: love;
love: why are you single on Facebook?
When did you/we/you/you decide you
you/you/you were single on Facebook?

Nothing’s wrong, nothing’s wrong, nothing’s
wrong wrong wrong

I know I know sometimes I throw knives
at you but does it matter if you don’t
notice? I am small and you are big
and maybe this is the only
why why why for which we fit. I I I am
not so blameless but a knife from you
is a knife for us
and I I I am sorry that I
that I require a saint from you
of you I am sorry
sorry, sorry no, sorry no

even when I yell you think I don’t try / help me
convince me that these are more than singular
post-teen trivialities

We shes watch the room unfold
smooth with our backs against the dry
wall; invisible women, sore thumbs, melanined
bruises among paper cuts. You smile
so we smile but mostly we are quiet, struck
sponges on land foreign holding in our water:
daughters, we float enough still to drift


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s