Collection, pt. 1
We’ve been made to live as conscious beings instead of a singular tone,
when they say it comes in a rush, a passing light. Maybe it starts with a betrayal.
Sandy beach puzzle piece and I found you with my metal detector.
I need a bigger keel. A bigger field.
A differentiation between lowercase and capital punishment.
I need a bigger killer. A bigger feel.
Postpone your apostrophes until we meet. I need your singing grief.
I want find a lid of men where they wait.
Every woman shares her name with a castle, the drop of a hat, a pill.
I want find a lid of men where they drink.
I’m writing a tale of desolation.
I want to tell you a story.