The sky would darken
to a terrible color.

It would tear
and bare orange
wounds as hail

like stars on fire fell
from the gaping sky

Ok, I have
nothing

to write but
I'd like to
write, but

it's gotten
an unfamiliar
strange smell on
it now from sitting

out on the
counter too long

Tobacco tar
stuck like the scars
from my tattoos:

pain elective
and
permanent

like we like the
mimetic representational
citations of Bryson Tiller
and Drake,

what hails so merrily
your unsaid name?

Slit to split slip
knotted strings
attached to every

balloon chocked up
colored chakra covered

balloons Up with Ellie's
babies and belongings in a
cloudless storage space

Unnecessary thus unused
then unreal: the fading of

love as a mother tongue
unspoken for generations
at a time dies out, eventually

the helium depletes or
something pops off

My body will scream
if it wants.

My body will do as it
will as long as I
allow it.

I will not soften
the sound of the screams
from my body
for the sake of sensitive ears

when the point
of a scream is to
be heard.

My body can scream
loudly, if it wants.

My mother tongue
is my father's language.

My mother had a
tongue like her own
like my own and all like

their father's tongue,
whose first father's tongue
was the first to lick up a
word and taste it.

Where is the oui
in we-- in yesness
or togetherness?

There may be a
sense of you and I
a semblance like

a reflection of the
self in the mirror
in a place in time

If oui tried to be
we could be a way
without you and I

A push might pull
if asked nice enough

A pull could give a
push if invited to do so

The nature of a thing
is very flexible and
malleable like hot glass

A coupling doubling
effect of the thoughts
ability to produce

Itself again in a
body not too far
away from the self

Like a tool or limb, like an
extension of the brains
primary function to organize

At what point
does coincidence
become not so

Say the thing about
energy being everything
is true then

At which frequencies
do numbers ring?