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 16.6.18

I do not regret

Most movements I have made and

Make. I follow my


Stomach and hungry

Belief in the story I

Am telling myself.


You, creature of smoke

And potted verdure, regrets

Sprout in our lost shade.


Stomach pained as I

Poisoned our safe space, drinking

From the putrid well,


The lies power pours,

Strangle our other-creatures

Of joy of love of


Life and so I blood-

Let our time not knowing it

Was dying and who


Held the knife. I tried

To love outside the box while

I sliced away at


My body, desire.

I drank our time before I

Loved myself, before


I believed in what

We were. I drank time trusting

The spring would not dry.

recorded 21.6.18

recorded 14.6.18