are you looking forward to the weekend? 

i'm crawling in
through the smallest window
of a shrinking room.
the shoes by the door are getting lonely.
i can hear the sound of you thinking:
bright whining light. the bracelets 
have their own eyes. walls slick
with day-dreaming. the carpet
the size of a pinky-nail. 
how minute can we be tonight?
hush, there are baby birds
trying to nest in me. 
even the plants have plans tonight.
their roots mingling. 
i'm filling my socks with soil
& walking three miles. 
try not to explain what you want--
just let it smack its head
against the sliding glass world.
hives bristle across my arms.
i am allergic to something 
but i can't pin-point what
though the color maroon
has always made me dizzy.
i want a better place
to lay down where the sunlight
hasn't heard of yet. 
as the room gets smaller
i list what i'd like to keep:
lamp, lover, & ankles. 
outside, the angels don't bother
blessing doorways anymore.
a bird falls dead from the sky
like an envelope. 
sometimes i spit up a key 
or two. my blanket becomes
a sting ray & flies above me.
i have no luck catching it.
room filling with water, i picture
the old fish tank a glow 
with green algae. 
whose life is this i coil in?
whose knuckles & whose humming?
i crave a nice stove 
to set a pot on. i miss the way
you used to carry me down
from the ceiling where i hid.
what happened to those arms?
how do you find me now?
a little fleck of color 
in the midst of a clenching tooth?
you lay open as a veil
in some else's backyard.
i can hear the whoosh
of a baseball flying through 
a cloud. scoop me out.
it's getting tighter. 

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