Stretched skies and vast spaces
Erase my name from society,
And mosaics, trigonometry, and fractals beneath
At my feet in time become simple and empty.

So with distance, their powers are diminished,
Finishing off the last busy thoughts to my name.
And the explicitly raw material world disconnects
objects of connection to my world and within this plane.

Shut off from the rest of the world, time wasting,
Tasting the distinct flavor of being in time out,
Awaiting a landing that may or may not be homebound,
Undrowned, within the stream of consciousness’ drought

that
which is breathed,
and blown

well
do not exhale me a soul

exile me
to the cold

impinging
sinking, stinging
pity

no

be brief;
be terse

without a kindness to me

cast me off;
trade the scald
for the scoff

no mercy

leave

go, love
go and love
at the cost of me

wind soughs outside
slightly

I'm up late tonight

my sister careens
on the eastern coast
touches Topsail
with her lacy fingers

and I cross mine

wheels and wheels
like lockstep men
march inland
automobiles whine
like soon, treelines

I'm up so late

my best friend dreams
in the wayside,
somewhere west of me
after a long day
of convincing her boyfriend
to high-tail his *** out of Raleigh
Clayton, it is
he decided
her fret only calmed enough to sleep
by his promises of a high-rise property
and below 70 mile wind speeds

I can feel my eyelids tug

my brother's fingers thrum
on countertops
well-wishes in morse
as he says he'll stop thinking about it, now
no, wait... now

and my mother works to bend
each emerging frown

as my fingers drum up natural disaster nonsense
I watch, wait for the earth's recompense
as it surely blares through my old house's fence

rippling through the silhouette of the statue
my sister's soul had attached itself to

every crevice of county road
every man-hiked piedmont mile
interstices of feet and snow
the dirt that has seen every trial
to fail under inclement weather

they say it's overdue
that it's been a while

in mid-augusts breadth
the last gasps of doomed stars

like lions lacking breath

he is watching
as history repeats itself;
damns itself

the solipsist; the progeny
who cries under his mother's wing

the exodist
to exist
unfortunately, in shortage of sleep

where asphodels crouch
long cut from life's thicket
free from time's gouge
painless, from the thick of it

cast into tartaros
on the cape of ouranos

to fall from his ipseity
so long was serendipity

his father's testament;
the panegyric on death

his debt, his deficit
of what he is bereft

summer feet cross the border
to touch the winter sleet in its corner

and skin meets skin
the solipsist's gravest sin;
the sophist, where he sits,
sips on the blood of collision

more sure of "self"
than his mothers hands

the solipsist, to exist
in the shade of earth,
who inhibits

she said
"when you talk, none of it registers"
then, anemone and vetiver
the scent as my center stirred

so, my head spins while she sleeps
and my mouth moves, but it's not me
the last time I'd tried to leave –

all the fear I'd felt
the hand that I'd been dealt

when next summer sheds the coming snow
will I then shed mine alone?

is it too much to ask
to know how much to ask for?
sewn into red string and corkboard

I only speak what I've heard before

existence seems dissonant
simple cause and effect
what else does heart implement
than its own discontent?
only wavers at others diffidence

some small part is legitimate
separate, insignificant

lends no ear to listen

sour milk
I spill and swim in
summer aestus
as kind as they've been
smiles, sharp
glasgow
sin

don't touch me

I am terrified I am different

cold
sordid, alone

sour milk
I spill and swim in
summer aestus
as kind as they've been
smiles, sharp
glasgow
sin

don't touch me

the dream, gone
the deed, foreborne
the viceroy and its mimicry

wilt, milk thistle
to milkweed's thief
bloodflower
and antelope horns

strike the ear
of my fresh reprise
overwintered, ignorant

surely, somewhere, in the thick of it

the monarch swings
and the monarch strikes

two ends meet
for a sharp excise

galvanize the girl to grow
let whatever you speak stoke

paltering
preying
perusing me