bugss

in and amongst 
the empty caverns
of dust and broken blades
bones splintered in the distance
cracking silver shatters 
in the bright daylight

from our cave
i watched as you
tracked in struggle

sprawling anthills of human activity
fade into the warm carpets
of restful places
where

the stars lie below you.
watching 
the dazzling spectre views 
of modern fog.

 

a gentle immunity stagnated in the taco bell parking lot.

11:46, the minivan wouldn't fit under the drive through. 
so we parked next to the overflowing trash bins
and walked under the broken streetlights 

i do not feel unclean.
you told me about the man that kissed you in the summer
how he made spreadsheets of your days together
documenting every little thing

you should know i do the same
and 
whatever he felt for you

there is nothing else to say. to you or my own spinning thoughts.
there is nothing else to say.
as we ended our time
in that house
together
for the last time,
the courage i mustered
left over from a year of thought

my cat kills a wren under the pine boughs
its guts are spilled in the gravel
old and rotting
it hurts my chest
i carry it to the locust tree
and set it above the other birds I’ve buried there
in the soft grass
despite its age