Selfies in Ink

u must come soon! it's so quiet and the deer are everywhere. it's fall glorious.

Does French Feminism arise from the beauty of the anus? Does language? An origin is a hole, a tunneling of blue. It is very simple. You are sprawled out on the hot pavement, dying. People throw coins at your head, and it hurts, and it feels like heaven. Darling, when you fuck me I am distinct from the sounds that I make, a confused intellect in the midst of it.

Love, like a pulse in the dark, moves as bodies move when they are waking. Also, transcripts occasion the mind like distractions. Love, like something sharp, is the notion of blood, the fear of bright colors and wounds, the sun rising like a repletion of breath. I walk into the kitchen as if I am an abstraction, all of me filled with you. I think of the earth, like an estrangement from heaven, close my eyes and imagine outpourings of unremitting light.

Today someone is reading  an STD pamphlet at the bus stop and I am thinking about the cicadas. How their return is all but certain, how we have anticipated the way they will keep us awake-- hissing in the desperate summer, screeching, we will know they never really went away.  I want to say that I am the same way. you wouldn't believe me if I told you how wild I can be.   Dear, know this: I will keep you up every single night. 

It's too late now and you should know it. Know this: my guard is up and it is late now. remove my name from inside your mouth, i don't like how the vowels sound, i don't like how you taste anymore. Yesterday someone said you get too emotionally attached too quickly and he is probably right. Are you watching or are your eyes shut tight? Watch me. Watch me. I am turning this all around. 

Naked. My belly is some testament to no-god. I found my holy by accident. Insomniac, I couldn't sleep and lulled myself into dream only body. I found me. It was dark down there. And wet. Like the doorway to a basement.

I'm holding the baby I keep in myself to have someone to blame when I cry without control in the dark night, everything a pained cage around me built so I won't fall. Cradle me. I'm talking to myself because there is no one listening on the other side of the door anymore to come and pick me up and tell me there isn't anything worth feeling so afraid that I won't let my eyes close. Don't you want to be dreaming again? Don't you want a chance to wake up?

I was sitting all horizon on a sun-like object. Not the other way around. I build my context however I can. Without these relationships, I cease to exist. Line: I divide earth from sky. But I am not anything, (alone) anywhere (no place) without you.