is an open wound growing wider. Such a life in poverty and dominion
over nothing. Living was a choice, a position to watch a one-way door
facing out. Holding each name close as bone. During the burnout in the
U-Haul when we were dreaming and heaven-going, I knew it would be the
last time I saw you. So, what of these entries? This little life and this page?
I chose to live.