W h e n O u r D i s t a n c e F a l l s S h o r t e r T h a n T h e H e m. In my jaundiced dress, we will invite the parasites. To believe in our hope, too. What breaks a fever. Finds repetition. Twins a diviner’s stick and pulls the longer flaw forward to a hidden source. Incubates two lives. Lives repetition, without rhythm, half-heartedly, superstitious. Trees on the back of a super-organism. Honey mushroom single spore. Bodies fruiting—shiro—killing the forest about it. Several times over.
Hero of a thousand slaughters sunken sleeps from what is reclaimed. In weakness. Delivery beds, mast and flag too small to see. But extensive, the salted sea opens. My letter to you unfolding gathers courage. To sink. From its most middle point, dragging in the edges.
( C o n t . ) Aging into the curtain’s branches, a caterpillar falls into a bucket. Of stolen milk. Is not finalizing, but a remark, the morning wants. You in an attic of charcoal drawings, my wanting. Mourns you at the staircase to its attic, where humidity is a high- plains well we stagnate towards. Wanted me dead, some mosquito.
( C o n t . ) Active transport up the gradient, thin copper and conical. Insisting we waste into shapes. Shaving brevity like potassium skins from the farthest. Fruit, exposing what the hung hangs to—beneath skin more skin, beneath more the no-longer—There. On an eye-length cord no one will pull. To betray us, they don’t have to. They return to their civilization minutes before. The tablet drops. Wishing to perform all the day’s intricacies in preparation to be seen, even for a moment, by the head desk. From which all documents swarm. Undulate. The air holds. Buoyancy we evolved-refused. Cleave your ears to its snapping shrimp.
( C o n t . ) There is what is called. The deep scattering layer in the depth sounder, not creating the noise but themselves. Schools of fish reflecting sound wear taffeta, move rapidly like glances. Decide by motioning, remorse is saved! For tomorrow’s later date. Morsels from deeply divided cake brick. Our scattering them into orders will suffice. As walls. Though ‘wall’ is just a feeling, only ever upwards. And out of our reaching over.