i’ve been split in two persons:

you and I, wriggling twin larvae

bleeding blue into polyester

Tiger-eyed and lambent, pulled down by soaked clothes,

incarnadine the sea with me, my love.

I am not a bad person.

I find love at the end of the world

I imagine we’re on the train bound for Georgia

i. there’s a cigarette stain blistered on the lampshade and i still remember the oil spill in your eyes. the sprouts of crooked teeth from your gums crooned and crystallized in my belly like syrup in a styrofoam cup while you’d ask about my favorite constellation.