If you take someone’s bra is it cause yr trapped?
Or just interested in drag?
Maybe you just like being urban
Either way,
I’ve lost so many things it never feels like anything’s taken from me.
Commentary:
There is a path that beats
In me
There is a border of moss and
Golden, silent spaces, ignorance.
There is sparkling processed stone
Clear panes to watch your neighbor.
‘Knowing’ that is monitored.
That is the precipice,
That is the corner, where
What you want to see &
What you have and have had to see
Meet
There is a river running down
Yr throat
The roundness of your lips
Like mountains ever rising
And falling
And great peaked paths that go
Everywhere and no where
And don’t say, don’t speak
No fine print, just still
Full air
neither
my name, nor yr name
is painted on those mountains
but we’re there
in the sediment that is falling
in the sediment that is rising
There are my ivory legs against
The smoothness
That the sun has beaten into
Yr hide
Creation, desolation
The things our skins
Can build & break
There is the beast &
The businessman and when
They intersect
it is clear
That it is not
A façade
A mask
Smacked on by society
Crossed the border swallowed that which enslaves you.
Purge purge purge
Build a bridge with a city in the trees
Not an internal town that destroys
& rebuilds itself each night