you are less than one, more than every one

the cloth lung is the only thing that moves in this room.
netted red, the wall across from me deepens when the window
breathes in.
and every morning but one i have returned
and have seen the moon scaling the sky like a lizard on a stone wall

this time it was i who flicked the switch,
i let myself into the house
to the loungeroom
and i turned on the light

it was not you who calmed my heart
(though when i think of you i often will be calmed)
it was not you who reached between my ribs and pushed and pulled until i could breathe
no;
that was me.

and here in the summer i sit in my summer dress. i should be partially submerged in the tide.
and i hear your voice and it makes me smile. i have known it for so long that i can't help but feel comforted,
though it pains me to think you are so far away
and i am so far away
and even this far away we are closer than i thought, or you realize.

but still i wish to carve layer after layer of flesh from my bones
if i could be where you are i would show you
the filmy golden tissue that shelters my nerves
i would fold back the skin and glow
so bright you would have to shield your eyes

i would wish that i had the patience you have.
to let the sound come to you in dreams and in fire
and to wait, to see if she will appear between the door and the box of my old records
and stand resplendent and perfect in the half light of your bedroom/recording studio
and it could take years, decades. but you will wait.



this noun is well known, and indiscriminate - you are less than one, more than every one.
i create you and destroy you at my own whim, and you do the same.
i love you, i am jealous of you, i desire you, and i am afraid of you.
there is more to you than our imaginations combined could comprehend.

but this time, i put you aside (in an utterly neutral sense).
i unlocked the door, i opened the window.
i flicked on the switch, i lit the fire.
i shuffled the cards, i counted the numbers.
i stretched and shrunk, i expanded and contracted.
i made the incision, i stemmed the flow.
i grew the cells, i pulled out the hair.
not you.
i breathe.
i beat.
i breathe.
i beat.
i breathe.
i shudder.
i breathe.
i twitch.
i breathe.
i beat.
i breathe.
i flow.
i breathe.
not you,
this time.