path

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?



.