I keep looking at what isn't there.

I study lost saints

They are not happy

We adopted a dog. Molly.

Salute, raise your arms, swoon

You dream of snow that tastes like cream.

one mass silhouette

Miss Storm had an idea.

A dream pushes through the swaying shadows

I exist in a spatial and temporal mode you can’t conceive.

You are safest within the house, under the protection of your caretaker.

“A man has jumped into Surya’s den.”

But at least I’m not alone. 

my love songs undulate like the abandoned strands of kelp

“Hello, you. Hello, there.”

She thought maybe none of it had been really real.

Against my cheek, her hair was softer than I’d imagined.

Once, before you were born, / I ran from him down the street

we can talk about / pain all you want

…the still surface was like glass, a dark mirror reflecting a world of thirst…