holding each morsel of
anecdotal skin; she was right
about me. so i will continue
to write about the
death of her.
where his warm arms
uncover my sunlit home
in a cardboard liquid glare.
i am sorry i diluted you with my
fear and walls and fear and walls;
i meant to always love you
despite
how hard i pressed pause
in descendants and
sighed out empty fog
in solitude.
when i die
lower cases will
win.
