i do know why,
but i do not know why
i dictate silent paragraphs
use sighs as exclamation points
and breathe in extra-deep.

something i have lost,
or not lost anything along
remains as black-stain letters
a cloud of key-stroked ink
too deep to speak with breath.

feathers belong to birds
and cursive words (permanent)
and to the air, floating free
and to my story, if only
described in silent breathing,
or something i have lost.

delamination

my pen will not last, it will run out of ink, alone, before i can say

a letter to (you):

i awoke to
an actuality
for which
i wished up a cure,
in which
i will swallow grains
of
sand
for days on end.
(for you)

until,
these transforming pills
reach the end
of each
(jealous) cornea
(apathetic) capillary
(indecisive) tendon
and it will
weigh
down
my
(overused) diaphram,
ridding my language of
those sighs.
next,halting both
(wandering) feet
and
(opportunistic) hands
to a still, quiet,
sleep.
and
then i will become a
sedimented form
that can

be

because
movement of these
ill-formed parts
create a make-believe
that i can not partake in
if
i
wish
for you to know
the real me.

(statues are monuments
and dwelling places
for the ego.
statues are not opaque,
but transparent.)

i will not last
when you discover
a new satisfaction,
reaching into wet-sand skin
of a malefactor (once in disguise)
and realizing that this
still form
should be
pushed
back
to
the

sea.

(you walk away.)

lung clocks push
each breath through
your lips
maybe i'm just buying
time
as i listen

unimpressed and stoic
she used her strut
to straighten sidewalks,
punished by each step
they nervously align.
her tongue lay heavy in her mouth
but steps betray her vision
behind those puddles
of caramel glass
self-sufficient eyes,
south of destinations.
sitting, he asks himself
why he dare bother
and before he said hello
he'd said goodbye
to embodied indifference
in the span of one stride
nothing more to offer
had she, but her stare
forward, and her pride
that floated on his two words.

defeated.

either way, i fell

and the greatest thing
to happen to me
just drove away
in a car.