Aquariem

throng of endless individuals overwhelms every hair on my body the door to the car closes and the relief exudes from every pore until someone asks if anyone else is sitting there finally coming home to nothing but an empty house and a full blanket sets myself at ease drawing the curtains closed tighter against the blinds encases me in a dark friend enough to see to read enough to let me be

sweet swell of ocean waves in front of my boarded up childhood home reminded me sometimes of the estuaries back east a mix of clear and calm with hint of salt water creating taffy on my tongue as i inhaled exhale of expectations turn flower into weeds and saplings into kindling – igniting the boarded up home with a spray of sea salt the green flames turning a plot of a memory against the sweet swell of the sea into a mirrored image of blue and green

there's a drop of lead in each of my legs as i walk towards the cabin that desolated us each step is a sinker crunching through uncharted promises snowshoes not enough to lift my weight from the world below Atlas yet crouches but am I still left standing, with anyone else besides me? the poison creeps down my bones but my Sigyn has sighed her last breath and my fleeting resolution swells over cobbled walls and throws the world into sin

as much as i love this place it’s odorless as i search fervently, like a blue-black raven looking for a lost ring in a sea of slivers and grass, for a scent of you others get to call home but there are countless miles of landmarks and highway routes collecting spackled wishes and keeping your comfort and company from me (for now) but yet a Southern breeze honeyed by late night skype calls, 1:42pm texts - the sound of your nose scrunching when you light up the room settles inside of me like home

please don’t grasp onto my paper thin pin-holed walls, like i myself can puppeteer the architect to freely erect them once you’ve overspent your welcome my roof is paper thin & pin-holed, too, space-way destinations counted like constellated lambs, glowing white against a midnight, rolling hill & sometimes falling back to my paper thin & pin-holed self, escaping the big bad wolf, for only  a blink please don’t pin-hole my already paper thin walls with your perpetually grasping caterpillar ways for i am not a leaf on a branch i am a glowing white lamb & i belong to the rolling, midnight hill

permanence is words uttered after the door has been slipped closed a drag of feet on the 7pm train bound home lips smiling too much to actually press together soft flicker of hearts and a crinkle of time may bring someone’s permanence to an end but what is forever without first sometimes?