a dilemma. not happening
now
it’s not
happening over again
but still happening
all over now, a radiation of the senses
a phantom limb all over
scarred mess of tissue
if only i could cleave it, separate it from the wound
of it happening
asking me not to dwell on it is asking
to tie my hands and swallow it
whole and unblemished
over not happening now
but it happened, still happening
and i can’t get over who i’ve become
better, stronger, wiser
still healing, a happening now
not happening over again, sure
the worst of it
being i’m glad it happened, it woke us
up out of something tired and wasted
but had i known, always
had i known, i never would have
taken her, given her this pain
to forgive

two brothers sit by the shore, the curb, the bar. they talk in half sentences, lengthy monologues, subtle gestures. he tells the other of his wife, his girlfriend, a lost love. the other talks about nothing, the weather, the latest score. their jobs are meaningful, pointless they are still looking for work. one mentions his house, his landlord, moving. one drinks and drinks, doesn’t touch his glass, fingers the peanuts constantly. they each have forgotten to dream, plot their escape, seek comfort. when they leave one says to other, we need to do this again, say hello to the family, fuck off.

in the dark guttural sounds choking spit into mouths pried wide open. she lays across me like a snake slithering across preying hands that tug and pull and grip into twilight. you dream of petals. you dream of sighs and beckoning. spent i lay flat on my back and admire her against a blue haze that wipes the room out completely. she asks, did you dream, did we dream this? i replied reaching her to keep me still, you are the dream.

and we bear down waiting for it, crush of concrete against the forehead. endlessly i drove through the city at sunset, jammed and stalled in canyons and mobs. i loved it, i miss it, coursing through its veins, an infection shot through one arm and slung across its neck. we dreamed of lavish greenery and snow banks toppled over by children. the cold was bitter and whet our appetites, a slick gnawing of knuckles. and at daybreak, careening back home, i was in love with it all, i loved it like madness.

you break
without breaking, without being
broken, you dream
of breaking fists through glass
shards until they become grains of sand
stuck beneath your fingernails, broken
of this breaking, lips for promises
like a lover’s tale told
to you before weeping

you think of this, of scratching the walls, peeling the paint, chewing on dust. it leaves your mouth. more of it, gnawed limbs of trees, a petal caught between the teeth, bark stuck in the throat. slow it down, falling, slumber of the exhausted. had you heard of this before? twilight, morning, harsh sun. and end to all things, an end to despair, an end to dreaming.

here me, hear this. a swallowing, a hum. short of reaching, something like this, sweat off the skin. electric hair, withered on ends. ankles buckling, where were we? start again. over. once over. wet dirt on the heels of. wrists cracked sideways. i never would have believed it. puts you right back where i started. begin again. from the top, where the skin grows thin. never was. as if still dreaming. mildew between the folds, getting torn by the second.

rabid dogs prowl through fog. we dreamt this in caves of ice while the goosebumps danced across our nipples. what a fine thing he was, a mallet without pretension, all blunt force and shatter. she pined away in the corners of bars, spiraling outward all that further away. and through the wind and rain, a steady breathing unlike any other, a pace none of us could match or withstand.

thin ice, a hangman’s tale. she wove tales out of happenstance and skewed memory, where we were all victors and she the spoil. marred like broken bark, the fleshiness underneath. a finger without a nail, no gloss, nothing to for the nerves. i once told myself, drunken and worn in front of a mirror, you will die like this, you will die broken. look at me when i am talking to you, and i slump over the sink, knees slammed hard into tile for cool comfort.