[[Erasure]]
I’d beg God to enlighten me.
I’d beg God to enlighten men.
I’d beg God to condemn me.
I’d beg God to condemn men.
I’d beg God to see me.
I’d beg God to see men.
I’d beg God to believe me.
I’d beg God to believe men.
I’d beg all to believe (in) me,
But there is no response.
I see God in others,
But I do not see him in myself. [[There]]
I enjoy seeing others suffer. I would like others to suffer as much as I have. That is why I would say winter is my favorite season: most people feel awful, so I do not have to feel so alone in being alone; I do not have to hate myself as much because most people are at least suffering.
Well, I guess I’d say I prefer my left arm and hand; I would not want to corrupt the arm and hand I use for the most significant actions. Also, I’m attracted to left handed persons; maybe it is a projection.[[Cogdis]]
[[There]]
Letting my
Heart go numb.
Sensing that
Too soon
A wound
Would be
Bleeding
Needing to leave
The page blank.
Season
Of silence
Under
Its bandage of snow
Is healing. [[There]]
You may sip and suckle
Nectar from the rounded
Basin within the
Flowers’ crevasses;
Slowly – however, –
Will you realize
It is none sweeter
Than the fainting blood
Trapped inside your
Limbs’ chambers. [[Sickle Supple]]
[[N]]
there is a secret. looking for my childhood around the Palisades. missed it. teeth were discovered in uncle’s yard. he sang falsettos.
on 28th street. too close. he told me. he was right. I didn’t see inside his liver, which was like mine. tinges of red, white.
to himself, he would talk to anyone. I tried suicide but it didn’t work. his hand shook. down 8th street, at 21st. near the river, my window tap, wasn’t safe in the middle of the day in a world like this one.
snow. my soul leaps, something I’ve heard: bliss. in winter, the secret: if you’d lived, you’d be now beside me.