i.
soft glow of tv-light
counters the glare of sun
we pull curtains over our bodies
to have extra warmth.
to spite our neighbors.
to hide.

and teeth
are gently
scraping pillows
shadows
make a show.

i remember things you've said now
only with a layer of static over them.

ii.
i watch the zapruder film.
jackie's on the back of the limo
and i wonder
if she ever stopped crawling,
searching for pieces of her lover,
grabbing them,
trying to put his head
back together.
a lady covered in blood;
a man covered
with the american flag -
the two are not much different
from each other.

iii.
i am behind my own hands
and though i show
no signs of weakness
you find them.
i am doing my best
to appear
as i am.

iv.
i find my atmosphere,
in the dust, in the bits
of eraser, that used to be word
coming off my paper,

in the dusk,
on the dinner table
i gave up meat
long ago.
i only eat
when it doesn't feel
like my stomach is filled
with some flammable fluid,
like if i lit a cigarette,
i'd burst into flames.