Fill me I'm cold. Fill me I'm half way gone. Would you crush me in the stairwell? Could we just lie down?

we'll be dark-hinged and planetarydrifting in and out of every season

welcome to the futureI have come into the awarewhere the gilt edges are

so it came time andno day like that is evergood in the coming

we were at rest and breathingaway from lovely death

immaculate middle-of-the-night quietrainlessnessthe late moony sadnessof the one specific mosquitodear someoneyou habituate me to the invisibleI exit through you not as myself

to stay herewould becontentmentwould bean afterlife

with his wordsin my headI slept for thirtyor forty foreverswhile the grass shriekedand the trees tremoredit was crazyletting my youthpass like thatgiving myself upto the abstract fearsbalconies collapsingover the east riveras far as the eye could seeuntil all is miniaturewind over waterwithout endwhen I am deadI will have somethingto say about death& all the men stretched outa girl must be a graveyardI am a descendant of fieldsand want to keep my mind off it, especially

I am always nighttime on the insidebarefoot and heretic

Everything gets more and more absurd.