letting my phone die on the way home you know too many specifics about the world & where i was going. i told you here is the door to a dark room full of glasses & you said walk a block walk a block walk a block. all around people are becoming figures & you are turning in for the night. o quiet fragment. o electric mirror. you take a picture of me as if this train were headed towards the ocean, ready to dip into the water. drowning occurs in different ways to all passengers. what does anyone do with their face? their hands? i press an open palm to the cool window. november takes everything & leaves only bone. a ghost sits next to me. i am lucky to have a window seat. my backpack is a child. i cradle the tender part of myself in there. we slip into our own private thought libraries or maybe just our collections of shelves. even cities are towns. when will i unlearn how i miss the present? i'm yearning for the touch of each street. i'm dreaming of living across the city. spread thin as a veil. a billowing girl again. let me emblem myself. logo of a deep autumn wind. streak of purple. violet moon. without your truths i am free for the moment. rest easy there is an umbilical chord waiting for all of us tonight. stop pretending you are happy with your thumbs. i remove my whole life & sew up the day. there you float in your knowing bliss. pressed to my hip in my pocket. flightless organ. dead bird. clouds curtain any hint of star.