First
window
Unknowing
and smoky with doubt
Finding
strands of black hair
Plucking
and pulling you out
How
do I feel less alone?
How
do I feel less
Remember
snapping a polaroid
So
we’d never forget our first window?
Now
its all noise, humming
Drumming
along as I sew new patterns
Pulling
stray black hairs from the path of the needle.
Take
pictures of rivers on my phone,
moment
by moment im losing moments.
I
lay here in wait,
“…yes,
since I am waiting”
Ready
to pounce on every mistake
That
I make, but I like to make them.
There
were cypress trees past the second story,
Mossy
shadows helped me sleep,
Here
it’s desert air, hot then cold, I toss and turn
And
watch the street lights flicker off in the morning.
We
climbed higher on the ferris wheel, overlooking ocean
You
discovered your vertigo, and then we go
I
tipped us over the edge of the known world.
Upside
down I see my loneliness, inverted
Standing up in soaking linens
Embarrassed
of itself, and groaning,
“…yes,
since I am waiting”
over
and over until I’m so sick of myself
that
I stop the ride and get off, uncertain
of
whether I’ve righted
or
I’m still hanging under your version.
Everything is ocean roar in my ears,
And
I can’t hear for listening.
I
weave together braids of black hair
Messy
ropes, and it is still perilous cold.
No
more blankets of southern air envelop me,
So
I seek contentment, wet with whiskey,
As
I sew, crossing back on my own tracks
Looking
to look out the first window again,
See
if I see what I saw,
Pushing
through waves of black hair
But
there’s only more wall.
I'm kicking up dirt,
Crunching
junebugs under my soles,
The
air is thick with their fucking.
I
take a picture from outside,
Where
it looks like every other window.
