i stuck your outline into the shower wall
using bone needle & blue thread.
it's all about where a bracket spills
into a frame. once we were just light 
with nothing to contain our edges. then, 
we learned how to fixture each other's shoulders.
i needed to keep that spool of you alive.
your electronic hair & the water 
soaking you like a sponge. there is always
a house with a window for watching so 
for now i'm undoing the stiches that kept
the roof from flapping away. a hawk 
eats a potatoe chip from my palm 
& causes no injury at all. you are now
just a speed & nothing more. who knows though
i might be just a passing thought 
in someone else's neuron. at least 
that would make me energy. i can feel my soul
leaking out of my face some afternoons
when it's muggy & impenetrably summer.
picking flowers, i stuff them into my pockets
where they degrade. write their thoughts
on the walls & into pillows. here is
the aster's prayer & the wishes of honeysuckle
growing all the way to the park by your house.
why can't i just like in your marrow?
a little hermit. a fire to keep 
a vial of my own blood. i don't want or need
very much. well, that's not true.
i want to be the thing you sew. a likeness
& gone of myself. no more flesh & story.
just what you chose to keep. a forearm.
a face. use purple thread. tie me 
to an acre of skin. 

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