#backlog!

You will be born again, and again, and some day it will stop; because she has already stopped. somewhere on a train platform, your mother isn't a state of mind just a person you'll see in passing for one, yourself no woman survives Russian literature, major thematic shift: your parents will apologize for raising you with a boy's brain and you'll wonder where they left the rest of the boy if not to clear the tracks, trying to find a woman who can only be recognized by clothes, by the time she's cold, it will be the height of a nuclear summer crows will sing and swelter and again you will be born with your sticky baby bird's bones inverted, the nest still clinging to the curve of your smile, because it's hers.