falling from one kind of life to the next
maybe time leaves a stain before it passes.
i had to leave, had to go
to the temple of 2 much, riddles sewn tight
to my lips.
sometimes you make me weep, or that thing
closest to it.
if i give you a belly
full of butterflies will you...
there you see?
how i cannot give unconditionally?
the garden's all thistles, fingers
at the tip of my worlds, dissecting
with a bone scalpel and poison ivy anesthetic.
we have learned to love like gaza
and fuck like the resistence.
amnesia is the enemy
I want to remember