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r kay
aubade knowing you hate photographs
for g Because you have a body this memory has no sound. Was it because perfection is a myth or was it fear of capture? I can only use one sense at a time. The pills I take remind me to take other pills. Sometimes I know things without thinking. When you fall asleep against me it is a different kind of breath. Grasping your hand is one way to be alive. I take it. I wish you asked for more than to be held correctly. You’re too pretty to not have everything you want. You want to raze this world & I want everyone to be as kind to you as you deserve —are these the same? This morning, as you slept, I faltered at the doorway & thought of everything I wish I could change for you. It’s unbearable, the way the light hits you perfectly & I let it. death asks what i’ve been doing with my hands
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