###st louis i thought life was about crouching in the tall grass long enough to enjoy it remove the basket and there’s a candle burning underneath the lion and the lamb are curled around each other eyelids clamped in such a way that if you blew on them they would hardly flutter but you wouldn’t want this there is a freedom in ceasing to pretend Babylon holds any meaning to you it’s no longer shellfish and mixing fabrics so i send you pictures of houses with church steeples and you send back cheers of crowds outside your window ones that waken you from a light sleep and there’s the sad fact that you just have to do it you must bring the knife down on the neck of your very first dog and you will have to do it again and again because it’s all either those you must explain the world to and the precious little others so i’ll go on writing about the sacrificial calves and you’ll push my hair back from my face or say things like “if we leave now, we can be barefoot in fifteen minutes” rejoice, remember? someday it will feel less like taming some beast and more like deciding to be terrifyingly honest seriously, rejoice for all of the self and all its consequences ###tiller she cut her hair in our bathroom sink in the light of the afternoon between our game and our dinner and she left it there in a rare lapse of judgment which felt pointed enough to warrant interpretation. i believed she left it there to remind us that we love her—that we would linger over the splayed curls before cleaning them up and i really did believe that. but then she was gone and i missed these reminders even when she came back and i still didn’t forgive her and it wasn’t until i was much older that i learned in a dizzying flash of sameness that people just forget ###Pennsylvania German when you go down feet first you have more control you were under the assumption that i was much more careful dutch for running around german for everything else a humble phase of subversion philistine in the distance when alexis said i can tell you're searching for something capacity, or profound respect yesterday today and tomorrow when we are together we are building an altar where we both remember ###- women are visual creatures some kind of savior all perfectly even fish eat your spit before they know what it is ###- stress sweat trapped in wool fibers we stare at the blood i left on grandma's quilt common agreement that this is beyond our understanding love, to me, is pure devotion stand still i'll do the talking don't you want things to be good? mind empty as i wait for the answer ###corvus corax i always thought there was too much kissing until i met you every detail a marvel salad for dinner desk in your room i stare inside your fridge as the door swings shut there is so much in the world that i can't pronounce i am too aware unless our eyes are both closed i shuffle home to a dark house stare at the ceiling fall asleep mid thought i'll hear the rest in the morning ###bug juice tongue sliding down a throat tears well in my eyes do you think about how there’s questions we’re not allowed to ask i overheard you say that being chosen by me felt like being descended upon i think i smiled but i can’t remember one time a porcupine smelled like my period blood during mating season pheromones like claws yellow kitchen light emitting a loud hum i’ve started letting house bugs go through the back porch door ###🫙 you called back home where it’s already tomorrow flowers bred to smell like rotting meat there are times i believe you could teach me anything that hot water is quieter than cold and the implication of being a conversationalist they used to play derby horses heavy metal before races so while they ran they heard more silence ###I Love Perth- BBC In-Studio Steve Lamacq Evening Session, March 15, 1995 lying on rock beaches i describe the way you sweat and i know what this means lodged in my mind like–i can’t i’m sorry or i’m sorry, i can’t i had a dream that you played in a st louis band but im not sure i meant it giveth and taketh away how long does it take for a sea to be sunsoaked all that makes sense is what i don’t have to explain to you ###godverdomme backstroke is english for rugslag a word that could smooth over a sound can we hear that one again and again and turn it up until it sounds like ocean waves the incus and malleus resemble two teeth kissing when mine meet it’s all bone chipping away yours know the feeling of being gathered up together then slowly drifting apart gums stretching toward what looks familiar you didn’t know that my world is comprised of only little clicks how to exist as an abundance of buttons amongst no shortage of fingers just short of wisdom don’t think, just push you must believe that the dull ache can deliver a brilliant white the one a tongue revisits its presence shocking every time ###sex tourism orange juice at lunch casual brilliance my mom would say i was “eyeballin’ it” orange juice walls embarrassment of riches the sunday crossword is not difficult, just big browning in eastern daylight the thought never occurs my stigmata start to itch ###here comes summer jack rabbit jag bitter irish breakfast i squint my mental eye remember your facial features sunspot in the center hot sidewalk the smell of heat reminds you of every childhood summer stacked on top of each other your blood warmer than mine after the symphony im quiet i can’t stop having stupid thoughts ie: i like living on a one way street more than i thought i would and that i could be nice to you forever is not a compliment ###7.27 i can almost convince myself that i’ve never told a lie in my life it’s lucky i find all things fascinating and all things are found in you— gold-star bisexual recreational catholic in my mind, i can’t conceive that you’ve ever tasted a fruit not perfectly ripe