I’m sliding backwards into memory
like a skydive in reverse
into the blue of
my mother’s robes
a mosque’s dome
Tell me that you haven’t felt like this for years
way-out high on red wine. Tell me about
2005 and the cycle of time, how you never...
It’s ten o’clock on a Friday night.
You’re pulling hard on my shoulder blades
like you’re trying to...
When people look into our car, they see me
a hitchhiker of twenty-three
passenger seat, hands on knees
eyes fixed on a hole in my...