kingsoftrain

so obvious was paper cut’s love for scar

night
wouldn’t hurt
a shadow

Dream returns little more than a medicine cup’s worth of water to match the amount once hired by a bullet to take pictures of a mother’s ankle. I want to whisper it isn’t our mother but mostly we’re here to name simultaneously those we imagine are looking passively at the thing we stopped touching. No matter whose baby was the first to say jinx, I know how to learn nothing.

handmade

would you
believe

The stone has one thought before it dies

and that thought
turns it
to stone

(The trick is to lose every child

Or is it
each

the ghost
invents
color

there is in fact a time

exactly like
the present

The children they dig a hole and give the hole a name and a backache. They ask was I ever their age and slip a housefire-in-a-seashell under the pillow of an endless angel. It’s not what I say but in truth the older a thing gets, the younger its god.

again we speak

(they are making
it now)

the forgetful
weapon

was there a moment I was wanted

past life and all, was there

a nest a whale, has this

been me
in a mothered

before)

(looking at a pill while picking a flower

time
temporary