MEMORIES / THAT STAY
How long can any of us keep this
up? Our hands
sky as if we were attempting to keep out the sun.
have destroyed me. These words make up the letter I’m
writing to the mysterious Other that walks the street
my window while I sleep. You have no control of the
that stay—they have followed me down a long thin
to where a river attacks the night. The moon and the
have composed their rolling sonata. Nothing exists
space and time. We drown in space and time, lost to
and time, and dispersed. Arms so tired.