Sunday, November 22, 2015

remember your body, its welds, its caverns, its armor. 
remember your body as it is with another's. remember its shakes, pick up a snow-globe and
recreate the way your legs would tremble 
like the last sip of a stiff drink or the rumble of a passing train. 

memorize the feeling of a precipice, the feeling of the doorknob leading to 
the edge. how the coldness of it shocked you halfway to reality, how the craving
burned deeper than the freeze. you are too young to be playing knife games in a bar, the blade speeding up like two fingers when she's close, remember your body 
when it's close.

let me tell you the story of the birds on her fire escape, how they witnessed our love and 
somewhere on the East Side probably still believe in it. 
it is the legend of the ghosts we left all over, don't worry, 
you are coming back from the dead, don't worry we can still hear you, don't breathe-
you'll scare the birds away.

some things will teach you how to be a weapon, remember them.
they will open their mouths and carve you sharp. remember how it is to grow, the shooting pains in your calves, 
the expanding in your chest, remember 
the way your forehead feels before 
it sleeps, 
your heart is learning 
like a good dog. 

1 comment:

Olia said...

so good, do you read at Open Mics? I can hear this one read in a dim room, the clatter of people being silenced as they start to listen...all eyes on you.

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