–Wonderful, I woke up this morning
to the weight of water in my throat, a hungry ocean
filling my lungs. My skin scrapes scales onto walls
beside elbow-gouged calligraphy, my spine glassine.
I cannot remember when I last saw sunlight clear
un-blued by abyss. The funny thing about drowning,
you never get used to it, you struggle for air
miles beneath the sea. You pretend to warm flesh,
bright-beating blood, stagger around in a heap of bones
as if you were dancing. Yesterday I twisted
through the raw impossibility of standing. Let’s not ask
after the newness of my pursuits: you see me here,
alive, unshelled by shame, body still crushed by living.
That’s all. That’s everything
that shudders from being said. That’s
the eye unblinking, the dark gape of it.
thanks. How are you?