are far enough to miss me-
close enough to ignore me.
where were you when i
needed the writing on my
wrists to repurpose unkept
paragraphs.
i survived,
anyway.
as time succumbed to
the frizzy pale pink of our
torso, mammoth sized burdens
buried themselves within us.
flavors of our necks turned into
sirens and glowed grace.
God's playful memoir.
red no longer serves its purpose
here because we are faceted in
lucid faith terrible truth and
celestial soul sounds.
red is the color of my womb;
untethered black with
emptied
white dust,
a home on almost desserts
lips.
