if this is the gift
i don’t need it
i don’t want it
i’ve learned enough
i’m patient enough
hard-water stains mock me
they’re there, still
coarsely grimy
and perfect
i’m here, polite
easily forgotten
and flawed
this isn’t the gift
this can’t be the gift
this swollen solitude
this fish-like aloneness
these women slip through my fingers
like cloying filaments of a fading dream
how do i keep myself awake for me
how […]

untitled
page…
a new
age…
a perfect movement is
a perfect breath is
I await…
…alone…
…but open