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-

lo

 

 

You can also read this poem here.