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Floating heads
My people, we tremblelike night shift watchers with frozen hands and feetand someone dear to ussleeping close by. Like that, yes, love is present but dissociated from us by timespace or consciousness. We know there is sufferingin the kingdom of God, we are always alert, waitingfor the next blow, blazing a torch on remembered paintil the memory hardens,weighs us down like…
please know I only think well of you
well of the health you measured in glass bottleswell of the threads you let tangle into knots well of whatever purring animal you kept in your laploving you was like borrowing a nickel to useon a losing scratch-off ticket I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to give that back
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Lizzy Burnam 🐞 