thewaythesunlightstickstomeandslickstomelikeoiltowateritisoften
hard
totakea breathwhenitis sowarm-ing
likeabeehiveswarm-ing
everyth-ingpushingoutwardsandburrowinginwardsthereare
cablefibreopticnervesand
openairinternets
andphishingsites
andthemanonthemoonwavingatthesoundonmytongue
andastrangesenseofdistanceinthiseasyclaustrophobialikemaybetodayiwilltakeamilkbathor
maybetomorrowor
maybernevereven
itdoesntmatterbecausethewaytimewalkspastmyhouseevery
morninganddropsaletterinmycasketitssortof
conviviallikemaybethesuniswatchingitsshadowcomeoverus
andmaybethemoonisdissolvingintospace
andmaybetheoreosaremeltingintheirbox
andeveryth-ing
be-ing
mean-ing
expand-ing
inthecupofaheartthatissofullofloveand
soemptyofitselfitsalways
okaytobesmalltosomeoneand
largerthananyone
sunmoonmanletterboxoreoheartyoujustdunkrightinbeca
usethetasteissolovelyanditneverlastsforevereither