what holds meback from living

the inside ofmy head is my head

    (one)

we walk from the station—

houses, mopeds,cars with rolled-down windows

birds crosseach other

sendingshadows—

my handstremble

the back of aneck       lower back        thigh       calves 

the possibilityof someone coming at any angle

people incars, sweating in houses:

            love     to love    to—

     disrupted:

to not make anysound

to not takethat first step, or let this accidental brushing mean something

just frombreathing with you

      pixilation:

this is       this is      

    (the screen goes blank)

once spoken, the words cannot beunsaid—  

    (the glass turns white:  condensation) 

    (the temperature rises)

if sitting heremeans forgetting  

if we are notmeant to feel whole

    (blackout:  reboot)

what else then? 

    (a low hum) 

before blackness, before…

(subtlevibrations)

a rush of breath   

(theimage blinks…

                             …to life)

Spin

it is only when Icling to

this emptyroom—     my vertigo

talking to mymemory

heavy     with the things

      I can’t

                    give away

~~~

you exhale downthe length of the spine

      deep breath

the pelvic floorcontracts

     deep breath

eyes closed topush back the night

      —kundalini—

    —serpent fire—

anything to holdonto

            ~~~

           —night—

(pause)

night that closesup arteries

night that fogsthe brain

this blindness  —night—   my blessing

is mine only

child’s silhouetteon the balcony

scoliotic curve of the back

the web on therailing

a kind ofheaviness or gentleness

in the shadowinvisible

except

for something

that couldn’t getaway