Highlights

Your kindness possesses me the same way
a balloon full of water is more liquid
than latex. Some moment when the day
drips all manner of pleasure, gets loony.
I will always have a sense of the past
as being very present. Late at night
I remember the circumstances and realize
this is not a game, going over the bonuses
in a languid room, purple haze. What I'd really
like is the bonus of the sun, crinkled nose
over sand, skin oil and burn, the sting of
salt, the grit between your legs. What part
of you remembers anything and don't say
the brain. Outside there are people who do
things all the time, they stir and we record
them on digital devices. What happens after
is up to us. We cut things into the meaty parts,
take away the boring incidents with the cup
or the frayed laces flopping on the side
of each shoe. I want those parts put back in.