written out in blood.

[The day after the solar eclipse I woke, to love — written out in blood.]
I’ve always been like this.
Waking — afire with endless sticks to make it burn. Tossing and pitching horizontal, as the one I yearn for — somewhere across an ocean.
But does he think of me as I am? Like a thousand birds waking from a single, shared roost?
Me : throbbing— the inside of my thighs, the outside of my thoughts. A sampled line, weaving its way along in decades of song, never quite leaving you.
Legs thrown, away — I rise, just bones — in a hazy, deja vu-like memory lit silver from the day before.
The bed I sleep in isn’t mine, but my dog lies next to me — nose to fingertips at first note of mama stir.
No matter where I am, the wild wakes — and right there beside me.
![[L] Appel](https://miro.medium.com/fit/c/160/160/1*YjyirpSFRAQF8ddutuBt2g.jpeg)
