but that's where childhood gets us
we learn the knots of trespass so well
i could tie them in my sleep
eyes closed. i haven't remembered
my dreams in months. mouth of devastation
it was death that saved us. not war or money.
we tried to run from that fact. every person
in a photograph looks like a corpse to me.
time stopped. & we are the dead trying
to convince me we exist. i abhor the taste
of when the world ends. will you climb
with me into the bathtub, cover me in rose
petals and film it for eternity.
in the sound reality
i must ask you to relinquish expectation
there is only this: eternal wiring
of souls scraped in the licked grin
i see history as a dream barely escaped
history as envelopes discarded
history as the corner now absent of us
lingering, history as deluded stories, so numerous
who is not a haunted body in history's dream
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