𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕔𝕪𝕠𝕟 ☼ 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤

“I want the cottage. I want the

“Sometimes I imagine my own autopsy. Disappointment in myself: right kidney. Disappointment of others in me: left kidney. Personal failures: kishkes. When the clocks are turned back and the dark falls before I’m ready, this, for reasons I can’t explain, I feel in my wrists. And when I wake up and my fingers are stiff, almost certainly I was dreaming of my childhood. Yesterday I saw a man kicking a dog and I felt it behind my eyes. I don’t know what to call this, a place before tears. The pain of forgetting: spine. The pain of remembering: spine. All the times I have suddenly realized that my parents are dead, even now, it still surprises me, to exist in the world while that which made me has ceased to exist: my knees. To everything a season, to every time I’ve woken only to make the mistake of believing for a moment that someone was sleeping beside me: a hemorrhoid. Loneliness: there is no organ that can take it all.”

“I miss you so much it feels gross. It feels wet. It feels nauseating. I want to rip out my heart and shake it like a magic eight ball.“Is this okay, is this okay, is this okay or does it make me weak?””

“I didn’t know that the war was still inside you, that there was a war to begin with, that once it enters you it never leaves—but merely echoes”

“Your neck looks best when you are drinking wine right from the bottle and I know the length you like to keep your fingernails. You are cute when you hum to music and think no one is listening. I like to watch your hands when you are talking on the phone and imagining I’m the only person in the world who knows these details. If you ever go missing, I will describe you to the police by explaining the way your breath sounds and how your jaw looks when you are laughing.”

“The shortest poem is a name.”