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.
any hint of star.