Page 74 - Iterations:Other/Is

I trade dawn for night
I don’t sleep,
make spectacle near its tipping zenith leave the waking to pull me under
my father has a shadow stitched to my own
my mother takes care to remove each thread, red, under harvest moon my sister is an ember holding — our brother for kindling
I am the embrace of an old friend someone remembered
but whose voice is burden — gutless
an old hand shaking/hummingbird wing carpal tunnel notes left
to a former self
who knew & knows narcissism — and old friend of
memory, now with an endless black lake of echo chamber reverb
a husk of sun(owers, wolves feet skinned and left to suck upon,
nothing words, language spent, endless joy from spent try
an urn stands with sun's light streaming through it:
the wind, the rain, the rain that has made the lagoon meet us inside
these borderlands, spaces dusty, my gaze incidental, strangers clutching language near wet sink, & just tired; justly so
for the urge to mother is in me more than to father
& what will you do with this cloud copy simulacrum— a never country,
a want for hand to cheek & hand to throat at same time the easy rolled into itself
healed nothing to
became and become —
being just; a word
shared between space is never inequitable