Ashtanga

My form is a machine                                                 My breath is punctuation                  

it will work all day                                                       pretending to be a landfill   

on knots of goodbye                                                   of commas, frozen periods;   

              

--going, going, gone--                                                  it  turns up the light, keeps 

hard to say--if that's                                                     inky spaces of silence and    

even--home? heaven?                                                 whispered sleep to myself    

also, which way home                                                 looks me in the eye, parses

--the world is so small                                                 the dirge of a sigh, impresses

yet full with forgetting                                                  the stray forevers of my lips

Minutiae

A choppy day full of big and small edits to other people's work; meetings galore; + followups, feedback, and fuckery. 

Met Nu's new therapist 💕; fielded pandemic tech suggestions from my mom 💕; handled paperwork and planner work. 

A loooooooong walk by myself (Wonch Park) was the best part of today. Reread favorite bits of Piranesi, started The Lost Girls, took a loooooooong bath, and fell asleep for a bit with Scout (and Nu and Huck) while watching Korra... There's an absolutely brilliant moon out now, and I'm glad what's looming is the weekend. 

"Receipts"

 

Snippet

It looks like Nu found a snow house in the backyard and Scout plans to visit with them...

 

In Order to Advance

 

Detainee

I might be free--or not; 

I don't know

for I have obeyed in advance

Distance

the atlas of my family

fold close 

the stretched out assault

Disinvited

for I have obeyed in advance

I apologize for-

giving-you-a-piece-of-my-mind

Briefly

That's Scout curled up with his nose touching the last place he'd seen me. He used to do this when he was a baby too...

Everyone seems to need me today.

Must go!

Address

From upon the belly of the same bridge

I can weigh the difference of a day

I doubt most resurrections--yet

the rhizomatic tenderness of your banks

are prayer: lilting, tidal, endlessly 

old / done / enduring--but

even in the porous ecstasy of freeze, I know

the delirium of loss, know you won't

take me any place to call home