the missed spaces, the missed places, the missed times, the missed rhymes, the missed persons I could have been or will be, the fear that restricts me, the choices that elate me, the food that prolongs, the life that kills and opens and winds up and scares and tears and screws, inspires and heightens and pitches and rolls and drowns and crowns and takes hold of and molds and breaks and pours into and empties and burns.

and here we steal away together

recorded 22.1.17

Your skin

Was soil

I pushed my fingers in

To pull aside a layer

And plant the roots of a sapling


I woke

My fingers on your chest

Entangled in your hair

recorded 5.15.17

recorded 28.1.17