Let’s Say We Didn’t, Tragically,
cut through the ivory peonies
to the paved street,
throw up or snort out tequila between
the 5th & 6th floors of the Hilton
Hotel, slow fall to knees
reabsorbing liquid strength, drink
sunrises to be touched, wake
beneath monsters then drive
for ice cream, dissolve inevitability
with our mouths, fail to invent
halo rules on the field, be relieved —
I’m pregnant, I miscarried — lay down
& take it, pretend to want when
we wanted nothing but
the clear weight of water minus
the weight of ourselves, a song
of leviathans & sleep, that mysterious
Atlantis that is not merely a release
from suffering, but from resistance,
so resistance is nothing but a haunt, the razor
wings on thighs, the wallpaper imprint
on cheek, angel-hair fractures of
the not-healed-quite-right, because no one
heals right, not right away, maybe never,
all uninsured, pre-existing conditions,
little pyro fanatics & bits of ember,
football gear & offensive positions.
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