you’re just a bunch of words on my are.na channel now

Strenuously caring to his end

in the folds of the eternal
come find me

But there are moments, walking, when I catch a glimpse of myself in the window glass,
say, the window of the corner video store, and I'm gripped by a cherishing so deep

for my own blowing hair, chapped face, and unbuttoned coat that I'm speechless:
I am living. I remember you.

i wish earth was more like a library. ppl speaking in soft voices on the streets everything shared and borrowed.