this is a devotional for everything lost.
this is the accidental banging up against empty tables
and the threat of disengagement and subsequent exiting
of the reflection out of the mirror. you are left standing there
with nothing to look at. and so much of it is about finding
something good to look at. he holds no beads in his palms
and does not understand the certainty of unrequited action.
the innocence of inaction is a mistaken claim. the mirror
does not record, but it does not forget. possession never
claimed can never be lost, but there is a piece of him in you
even if you had to fight him for it. it is the iron in the wood
that burns. the ash is dusted, and the bell sounds.
i am not mistaken for anything other than what i am
i come to you empty-handed and ask to be given everything
the sky breaks before you do and closed eyes see clouds
on the horizon it all looks smaller than the palm of your hand
the grainy film of affection burning out right in the middle
right where it gets good, because it always happens like that
and i’ll never be able to get my money back. we pay for ever
ything in increments. our bodies will wrinkle like old peaches
and then who will ever say we had anything in common?
this is the ellipsis of our story. we will grow up one day
and not remember any of this. i come to you empty-handed
and i leave empty-handed. we swallow ourselves from the
feet up, and the sky begins to murmur just as it cuts out.