in the paint
Blinding pain in my upper right mandible.
Fish heads for the cat. I’m throwing my
weight around- I’m ‘solid’. Please, give
me ten more minutes where I’m nothing.
I’m searching for words that will make
the same shape as my heartbeat. “I could
be like you,” what a joke. Right? Whisper
to your hips in the mirror, pants slung low.
Shoulder clicks behind a five pound
dumbbell, flex, stand up straight. Black dog
comes running when she hears the whipped
cream can. I remember the bugs, dropping
them live into isopropyl alcohol. The wind
rolling over the narrow creek, the light
bouncing off the water travelled 93 million
miles just to get confused and turn around.
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Vivid. Lots of miles.