28.4.09

Our shadows.

I am melting into the earth:
never felt so whole

The day after the second time I burned to the ground, a pigeon crawled to me and handed me a map, I haven't the slightest idea what is on it to but I keep it close to my heart and it leads me to where I must go, where the treasure is to be found.

Don'tbreathout.Don'tbreath
out.Don'tbreathout.

Don't turn around.

You have to breath out.

You can't help but lose everything.

Take your next step.
Your left foot makes you larger.
Your right foot makes you smaller.

And the flowers will sing, but only if you're polite.
And stay quiet.
And listen.

I can't feel my foot anymore, I'm starting to doubt it's mine anyways, maybe it belongs to everyone, to everything.

My foot.
Not my foot.
Not mine.

The grinded glass makes our eyes sparkle.
I can't stay and this isn't for me
though I don't have the slightest idea what is for me
Don't wait. Not for me, only for the atom bomb.

When it comes your only regret was that you didn't pick flowers today,
you see their petals now in the spreading mushroom cloud
and everything is expanding and rushing towards you at once and you want to cry because of the flower, but you can't, everyone is watching, you have to be strong.

So you push the boy with the retainer down.

Then you're suddenly gone and there's just your shadow on the pavement.

He wraps your arms around you, warmth and comfort before you fade away.
Don't forget your shadow.

Bulldozers pile up bodies on a sunny day. There is a slight breeze, and it's not too humid.

Then the infrastructure collapses
what are you left with
what remains
cut beams and dust

dust

We are the dust we so closely follow under the kitchen lights, pound your pillow and watch all the world float before your eyes

We rip off our skin and join the rest of humankind

The glass in your hair makes it shine, but when I try to run my fingers through it your scalp starts to drip with the blood from my hands.
But I can't stop, the rush is too much and I even moan a little.
I was so embarrassed, you know how quiet I usually am.
I would have blushed, apologized even
I would have stepped back.
But I couldn't do what I would do,
I was too mesmerized by my life gathering around your temples before it glides over your cheekbones and eventually falls between our feet.
All I could do was moan as I rubbed my face in your hair and my blood
Our life is here.

Maybe I'm as sick as they say.

Feel that puddle gathering around your toes, that is me
See that basil in our window box,that it you.
I will grind you up with the olive oil that is my cousin in Tivoli and the garlic that is the migrant Mexican worker in southern California, I will spoon all of you over my gnocchi. Then you are all me, and I'm all of you.

Everything exists for this.
When this is okay you have to thank all the awful times, the grotesque that you push out of your head but it always comes back.
You have to thank it. Even if it's only good enough. Because you don't know anything else. So you're bound to be thankful, to be full of praise.

The atom is beautiful but there is so much danger that comes with it.

Let's admit it, our thoughts are mundane.
They've been around much longer and are bound to outlive us.

maybe that's beautiful, maybe it's not.
Maybe I don't even believe in it.

I filled this room with silverware,
The kind you bring out for Easter and the visitors you are trying to impress.
You need this promotion, your mortgage will be the death of you the wife keeps nagging you about trips to Key West and detergent and retainers for the kids. Ah, kids why'd you ever have them? What good have they done you? They best visit you when they stick you in a home, eh? Not that you'll remember.
Maybe you should visit your own mother, but what good is it if she won't even remember?

You watch her lined, crusty mouth move up and down, and unevenly. Why are her eyebrow hairs sticking out like that? Is eyebrow hair even allowed to be that long? These plants are dying, even though they're fake. Why does the rosary smell like gravy? Read her the same book, tell her the same lies, not that she remembers.

Your son is fine.
He's doing great, he visited last week.
I'm surprised you don't remember.

I feel your ghost dancing on my tongue
I'm afraid to open my mouth
I want you to stay with me
Don't float through the air with the rest of the dust

I'm human
I'm selfish
I need you here, and I need to keep you in your entirety.

I need the warmth that he gave you, that fuzzy aura
You look like a saint
Your eyes quietly suffer
So full of love
I need to feel that love, I need to breath it in.

I can never open my mouth, I need to keep you here, always. I hope you understand
I'm sure saints understand.

My blood it still on our feet,
Our soles will always be stained red from now on, I hope that's okay with you

I'll breath in as you breath out.
This will emphasize the fact that we are one in the same.

Then I'll breath out and it will be the last time, please breath in deeply.
It's my last hope in continuing this journey. I need to see it through to the end.
My shoulders will be full of nothing but warmth and love
I'm coating your hair, your feet stained with me.
And I'm in your mouth and your lungs.
I'll stay until you breath out.
Then I come back.

When you want to see me, look at the dust
and lick your feet
and breath in

I gnaw on basil
It masks the breath of Lazarus.

Breath out.

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