dreaming of a collision & i wake just in time to find myself smashed amidst a static confrontation of voices and curtains and strange bedsheets beneath my cheek, something secret solitary drip drip dripping into my veins, bright lights bleeding into my eyes till i shut them off for the blissfully ignorant embrace of imaginary demolishments instead.
i smell like a rosebush. no, not that part: the ground beneath, warm & earthy & more alive. my hand blooming bruises and my thigh fading dusky purple. i'm high on this ache in my sides and this fever in my eyes; i'm tracing the contours of the way you used to stride across the room, before you slipped into a shuffling pout to match all the rest.
it's rising and it's rising and it's rising, and soon these walls will start crawling. you say let's play hooky and we will enjoy the fall. i don't want to choose just one, that's all i have to say.
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