a feeling of collapse,
like my body was an old building and the walls were falling in.
i had never thought someone would cry for me like that and
i suppose in the end that the universe is very, very full.
of poetic justice, what can i tell you? in a way
i feel that it is right (terribly) for you to suffer so.
skin sloping in, the soft sides pressing
against each other, you are the soft mildew
on the old beams, your mouth and hair the over-
sweet dark turned over give of the waiting earth.
i was the first to cry because i loved you with all the brightness
of a new green shoot, of my lonely girlhood.
salt in the earth, with the palms of my hands. i reach for you
i admit to myself now because i know that i should and it
does, it does feel good to hold you, but before there was electricity
and life and now my ribs groan quietly from the storm (but the other
day i caught them whispering to themselves that despite
the thunder, they are excited for something new).
my body is an old house and i am falling down! into the
earth but i will fallow and i don’t know about you, for a while
maybe you will rot but from all of us new life.
i am sorry but i am not sorry i am sorry there was no supernova
sunshine boy like i dreamed in my quiet virginity and you never
did until whatever you dreamed could be nothing but another one
of your regrets.