yesterday: you hit me and we were impoverished
stripped of all the upright bones of our bodies
a need for curtained bedrooms
wrought iron beds
a minute standing on the hill looking over the Bay
stolen books and scarves housed bohemian unstructured
every day a woman outside of me stood
speaking surreal words mimicking me
today: this strangled conversation between our lives
with its own translator
has been reduced to back ground noise
Work and money in the space of wrecked cars and foreclosed houses
Everything is dry
my fingernails have been broken and my fingers are grey
tomorrow?: hope for a transformation
ceasing to hover and then veer into morning or night
frantic run to jump to throw itself on joy
unwrap and undo the cords that hold back the covers and blinds
possibilities of serene movement
body against body simple contract
love and children and light are free
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