hi

where are we in the attic only
rain sounds us between
the night unfolding

our love is in here
i know it is
small as mouse
alive dead as everything
scuttling around looking for crumbs
what else?

our love was a banquet
and now i am

in the basement
where i saw the mouse
scratching at the floor to
get at the rain in the ground i suppose
whispering a wondering how is it going to end

that's odd i think, i thought
what have i dreamed
my brother i dreamt up ?
to me it is a year's worth of emails landscapes named and so forgotten between
everything i am is waiting, to be converted into mirror.
everything i was an iteration of desire for normal breathing not scared secrets.
not mamas with black teeth. fathers of no eyes.

then i found the day in a boy's face
i tell him over again
come to me in sunrise form.
lick my skin
make me forget my name
if it means burning down talking
cradling books crying out
loud is my blood
and not being more unperfect!

than i am now
loved
by birds
even as my ugliness was crowned
they like me
getting high in the dark fading
unfound even by hunger and boys.
birds they like to see my soul walking on its stilts.
in the softest morning when i wake
they are funny breathing brown songs.
we laugh my white is skin tissue paper from europe with dark beetles to see through.
as boy i am broken many times
shadowlove crushed all my baby skulls
baby turtle baby cats baby shrimp so precious and weak
because he had to be strong.
and never not.
i am strong because i know i am aching
but how else do i dance
and dress up a mystery in a beard
how else
do we see
out of what we want to be


sorriness is in having grey rock for a heart
it will take many days
soaking in our hands and lips and breath
to make what was red soft again.