(one)

what holds me back from living

the inside of my head is my head

    (one)

we walk from the station—

houses, mopeds, cars with rolled-down windows

birds cross each other

sending shadows—

my hands tremble

the back of a neck       lower back        thigh       calves 

the possibility of someone coming at any angle

people in cars, sweating in houses:

            love     to love    to—

     disrupted:

to not make any sound

to not take that first step, or let this accidental brushing mean something

just from breathing with you

      pixilation:

this is       this is      

    (the screen goes blank)

once spoken, the words cannot be unsaid—  

    (the glass turns white:  condensation) 

    (the temperature rises)

if sitting here means forgetting  

if we are not meant to feel whole

    (blackout:  reboot)

what else then? 

    (a low hum) 

before blackness, before…

(subtle vibrations)

a rush of breath   

(the image blinks…

                              …to life)

Spin