several scheduled catastrophes

i knew this was going to be bad
when we walked on back of the heron
& you fed me fiddle heads. 
i tasted the songs you used to sing
to the dead snakes by the highway.
i have blocked off time on my calendar 
to cry. i have scheduled an email
to myself that reads, "forget."
you can tell the body to do an action
but that doesn't mean the feeling
won't have a life of it's own.
i still have the feeling that i missed out
on kissing a body made of fire
in high school. he played bass & sometimes
we would message into the night
about jupiter. he said, "i am so hungry."
i said, "i know where we can sneak
into the vineyard to eat grapes."
we never did but i went alone
& swallowed each fruit thinking
of his eyes. thinking of the heron & 
imagining a boy just like you. 
i knew i was going to have to throw out
all of my clothes. i knew there would be
no time for sleep. instead, i had funerals
for everyone i ever wanted. 
made room to be consumed. 
shaved my head in a black mirror.
in college i often took naps 
for strange amounts of time like
twenty-seven minutes or twelve minutes.
every rest counted. i do that same 
but with mania. "i am allowed to be
a colony of ants for the next 
eighty seconds," i tell myself. 
then it is an hour. then it is a life time.
the truth is there is no vineyard. 
it is just your face. these were just
your eyes. you said, "go ahead"
& i knew you meant, 
"i only have thirty more seconds
before we're both smoke."