i eat fish

trespassing

the corners of a heart threading gold. breathe a little of this seagull air into our lungs, into us, as the figures melt like the sun light through a broken flask. a million times i sing in whispers a secret into your hands.

monday morning. rolling out of bed. red beneath me and a medicine pink looming above. eyes flutter. the light shafts floating. circles of truth circles of milk white. memories pass in dust as in real time.