This body / of sags, ironing / the art of happy.

look / we all become our worst stories / this is mine / I went
back / for more / nobody made me do that / I just hated being ignored

I’m still learning how to read:
F-O-X, S-T-O-P, B-O-Y.

aphasia of detail
& human
complication.
Here I stand on the street

& our home, a distant city of kings / mostly boys, & some other, / creature.

Here is when I hear its syncopated hatching.
I see the blood and think it wine,
I wonder if she will lick it from the floor,
suck the dye back out from the egg.