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I keep pushing these things out of my body - anger, blood, vengeance, laughter, shrouded secrets. Victories, skin cells, shadows, tears. Heat. Force, speed, light from faulty wrist bones. Voices, fingernails, long strands of sadness. Long spirals of hair, gentle touches. Whispers, answers. Riddles, mysteries, orders and instructions. Attention, knowledge, saliva, absence. Dark matter, unnameable damages, firewood. Memories, old bones, illnesses, antibodies. Venom, broken teeth, gravity, old stories told wrong. Remembered wrong. Names and numbers no longer needed. Forgiveness, nightmares. Performances, prettiness, pounds, peace. Pictures, picnics, plans, parties, platitudes. Scar tissue, mucus, journeys, callouses, ancient bruises, thirsts. Wars, wombs, regrets, wishes. Jet lag, justice, joy, shrieks, recipes, cartwheels. Hiccups, sand, charcoal, demons, routes no longer walked or driven.
I keep taking these things into my body - bathwater, bravery, nitrogen, snickering. Water pretending to be wine, tea, holy, from the ocean. Words, swords swallowed. Ventriloquism, late nights, pictures of space, violin music, trumpet sounds, indecision. Calcium, candy, abandoned buildings, locked safe combinations. Treaties, tenderness, politics, structures of sea shells. Cleanliness, chemicals, coins, freedom, maps, dust, feathers, confessions. Missions, fields, clover honey, paint, church bells, breaking voices. Bombs, blueberries, stolen moments, wrecked cars, times tables, rivers, prayers. Honesty, myths, prescriptions, geography, clocks, fingerprints. Tides, trees, victories, colored glass, ashes, phone calls, Verbs and valentines, vague vowels, vines, velvet lies. The repeating shape - circling circles.
