she

she enters the room 
with another she 
sprawled over the crimson bed
limbs drawings personalities
on walls and there
in the brains
of those who made them up
and contemplated them
de-segregation
arrangements
invisible designs
she lays
across the bed
waiting patiently to 
say half-phrase
half-way
amazed
i love 
but …
not…

memories

and “soon
the memory of me is 
like a drifting island”
or silent touch
mirage
a smell
a curve and bones
thrown in like after 
holocaust
the nose
and other
unattractively beautiful
features
left in the creases of 
white bed sheets
ready to be washed
disposed of
and forgotten

***

i wish i was dead 
effectively from today
torn life threads
halfway through 
midway

you ever thought

what happy is

or how it looks like

perhaps you know

how happy feels like

the opposite

and reverse to

imagine your body

is like an earth

any earth —

doesnt matter

and winter comes

and then wind

and then snow