When I stopped writing I
swallowed words...

Our home is decadent in
peeling plaster...

The ocean
reminds me of my father...

I have tied my past to my ankles.
Birthed from a frail mother...

Before now,
there was a vacancy in my...

I.
Before you were born...

Last winter
I buried clockwork in my stomach...

There is
an oak that sits...

You are
a floral cologne of bottlebrush...

I have
forgotten about you lately...

You are
a halogen lamp, goosebumps and...

I have walked your graveyards
with you, stepped over the bones...