one syllable, one gasp can pull the lungs through an unsuspecting chest. i am a
puddle of blood, of indecision, as you say you want to return to me. there is so
much viscera in these memories. visions of a long howling maw & tender
nipping at my throat to follow. i cannot separate pterodactyls from teddy bears.
how do you bend me so easily? & there was never anything to say but hel-
You can also read this poem here.