would there be a reason to rest like this against the other direction?
leaning onto the back of a rough tree. never even close to a missionary.
never even close to the humming your body used to make & the mutable shoulders- could have been throwing rocks all this time.
haste to haste, we used to say.
we used to say, my lover smells like a gun, after j. winterson. the swallow of the past, the nostalgic & her wavering. scratches on the back again in the timid shape of letters.
i will return both sets of antlers. i was glad you weren't alarmed that i had taken the seven bells. you weren't. i was lucky there too. this is going to get lighter, lighter. especially if trees. especially if the chair you sit in starts to float away. up into the nearby trees like in arizona dreams. if i keep moving. if you disappear and then if i disappear into you and then if we reappear, but separately, in our own chairs! i'll make work in the kitchen. i'll work on the kitchen floor and i'll start wearing anyone's clothes you try to put me in. let's bring back the three buttoned vest.