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
your heart is learning
like a good dog.