Occupation*
My focus is peripheral.*
*The number of times I've disappointed myself the amount.
I said I haven't written in seven months fade
silver to grey to white too white.
The air is lasting longer smaller breaths I'd say it belongs to.
Demanding focus.
I want to touch cut back through the mistakes I'll make. I want my power back.
Power
backward.* Invalid sylph. Vituperative . Self.
spittin it out he said I glowed he said illuminated he said and to me and
continued who I was in his eyes that saw
glowing that saw words ricocheting
splinters agains me. Gently. I was listening. He believed himself. I was
showing him I was listening. He belonged contrasted to me me as an actuality his words
potentiality. I was
frothing*
*I'll feel my face out to know it's me. Because
this soreness will hit me rapid vertical dimensionally.* I'll slip my hand over
in small
breaks. The transparency of not seeing what I feel. Thick gasp.
*less
when I'm sleeping am I gone to shallow breaths. But I can't sleep past morning.
There is no currency* in light.