Humans need shelter and space—
but beauty eyes space for itself. Air
is a medium,
a mere translator
a mule—predetermined life
as carrier
unto Death.
I want molecules upon molecules
to ebb out my eyes and enter
my mouth,
are you molecules?
Do you dare smoke
in winter
for the sex air?
Soliloquy has it out for me, handling
inner space like an amphitheater
of all middle seats.
Can’t hear myself?
Or can’t remember?
Or forgot I heard.
I followed you, hem and whisker
on fire to the fire.
Home was a blister rubbed open
& looking burnt,
nervous flesh
every day, left out.
The branch will hold, my shelter
and the false animal everywhere
cracks an egg on the sidewalk
just to see it
become itself as if
under another sun.
Traveling to a new home painted
shell pink, god’s membrane,
filthy memory, release me:
shed from my meat—
I’ll fill every wave.