There will always be days where you are swimming in it. The air presses up against the undercooked  pancake of your ear with a pressure greater than air. Any of that ugly light that gets to your eyes is suspended in it
Like moths in cobwebs, and just as
happy
about it.

gooey paladin you in gun powder real.like bucket like helm.scooping into pieces i can be soup.i can loopdy-loop
lemme show you my favorite
piece
of
meat

chybby
chxbby
chvbby
    >

oh
sebum heart
you are more than the cells rotting in your
body
.than the hive mind of bacteria in your gut telling you to rip the
place to shreads


my love traces over
you
in shoals of sticky wet erasure

tonight, we could
tongue each other's wounds (if just for a moment). measure the grease in our hair. salt like motherly
precipitate
seeping out of the gamma-me .
we
look to the reflection of the ceiling fan in the window.
four moons beating each other senseless_ away from
everything.
all this
just for the right to hang there
shining dumbly for disinterested killers
of god

tonight is as we are
i can't wait to crumple to bits   ☆
                    
                                
                  .

The
weight of the world sitting dumbly on
those fructose eyelids.

They, in turn.      melt into the mummified  
morning.

laying in the corner forever like a
favorite-shirt
ruined in the wash.
Every other stripe on you is stained pink
from
some cheap volunteer tee that ******              up
The whole load.

Each ray from the blinds
Takes some life away.


Searing past you- into the floorboards
with
quiet fury.

Time passes_
It shoves us down into compact spaces.
(but)
I thought of you
In a shoplifter's prayer.

(There is something left that evaporates out in the form of you)

I imagined you
Still.
But growing
Like
Crystal salts
Crusting up the pores of the earth.

Vapors fumbling upwards to rehydrate
My dry fingers_


We make decisions . that stick around.

We break off blisters. Rip little things that hang off our lips.
We take breaks before we need them.
Take too long to say
**** this.

Thoughtlessness.



Somewhere out there, they are screaming loud.

Somebody either cares or
Doesn't.


The marks on the carpet know better than
us
How to last forever

i take my socks off.
i see
on her dusk
a crown of young birches rises up like spindled lines of pencil.
they don't prove their permanence to the old soil>
missing the big trees that used to grow
here.


her body,
like wet leaves burning. the paper bark peeled back from
her forehead
reveals the colony within the soft wood.
down where the air is
as
still as the inside of a halloween
mask,
the fingers of her evening clam up likewise-
and all that it touches
is damp again.

and as i lay my dead smile in her's
,our teeth rest together in
bliss