Superstition
I feel deliberate w/ neon sickness
only deliverable w/ slights suffered
& small steps under the sun
I craft a mirage of movement
in the heat & my eyes lose focus
only wither is left on rebound
All of our curses are humid tests
& the wilt is professionalized
into a household rotten husk
I bleed my cuticles like animals
& weaponize my compulsions—
stop me before I taste honey
A crate of bleach & cracked bulbs
rides shotgun in a broken car—
I love you is superstition
The density of a drive time
hangover is measured by the volume
of a memory mocking a traffic light
I can only pick up a phone & break
silence w/ myself & absence
I can only sing in a key that's gone
A BRICK
I am spent like a brick
& the silence retorts
wrestle with my shadow
a tracking mechanism
my tongue is on the verge
of eviction from my mouth
a truculent infection
knotted to my throat
all blue shiver & shake
mourning means
a dove is the best breaker
of silence in gold light
& grace is the elusive
syllable of mourning
moving like an arabesque
grace you are a filament
flickering in threat
you are hope feeding famine