an
exit wound at ten thousand
frames
a second. the playback of one
cell
exploding, a flower of
mitochondria
and DNA blooming
through
the coarse of years.
a
body persists in its habits
the
shade of your words and the slippery
cool
of your tongue easily ignited.
fluorine
and ground glass, impossible
reagents
to hold what is left. Cindered,
there
is less of me than remembered.
I
hollow my bones into a semblance of flight.
Cross
my fingers, cross my path, bridge any
measure
of the distance between desires.
the
stars point in every direction at once
how
can you pretend they guide anyone?
.
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