i was looking for something else when i found the box of all your letters and polaroids and cards there were things i could not stomach:: toasting chocolate milk in brandy glasses blue print on vellum fingerprints your father's beard the way you practice your capital cursive l's in the margins and i read every one and some were missing or stuffed in wrong envelopes i sat and categorized i crunched the dates i ripped the envelopes searching for missing pages and looking under rocks and tapping my hand on the driver's side door here waiting for this light to change change change and it's the middle of the night already and you wrote these words once and now they are just around somewhere flittering about in the air like one-winged fireflies and all your clothing and all my perfume and different assortments of odd bathroom objects or flower petals on quilts are strangely contorted into commas and semicolons and blip along the sidelines like a green richter scale breathing in and breathing out the belly of an untamed countryside where the people live in fear that the earth will split beneath them and i am crying, i am hard and how this is heavy and plush and full and if you could only know how i know this was my decision and this is the bed i chose to lie in actively although i might have had some intoxication or some help from others along the way i couldn't admit i cannot taste anything since you've been here and i only blame you for that because you won't let me touch you and if you could stand here next to me without holding your breath you would know that this manipulative and beckoning plotline thickened and splintered inside of this single beating piece i have under here and there is a fine line between comfort and decay and it stretched out into a grainy picture with me as the poster child for childhood trauma flew out around into the alleyways and the halls and plastered itself up over all of the other rally notices and i can't scratch them off because i have no fingernails and i have no courage and i cannot say to you i would rather not see you i would really rather just pretend i don't get your phonecalls or i don't get your facial expressions and i will go on living in this stateless world of wonder where the switchboard is poorly designed and we are at the part of the road where we are supposed to be still or the monsters will smell our footsteps well send out your werewolf eyes emily i am walking home late it's past my bedtime i don't have money for cabs or time for incessant chatter and i think when you are done ripping this bound chest to shreds with your silent studious eyes and your nervous laughter you cand walk back up towards the cowboy's hometown and please don't call again please don't call again because i can't i can't i just can't can't cant,,

06/12/2004

Author's Note: in the gloaming / o, my darling / think not bitterly of me / though i passed away in silence / left you lonely,, left you free / for my heart was tossed with longing / what has been could never be / it was best to leave you thus, dear / best for you / and best for ,,

Posted on 06/13/2004
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