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.