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Spaghetti knots

a biography of i

i am five foot eight

confused why this is the first thing i mention

and dwarfed by the reality that

you are gone

 

i don’t like to chew gum

i tried tea for the first time when i was fourteen

i peed my pants last year

 

my anxiety is a product of movies and moving

and inscrutable desires i have spent a lifetime trying to descuttle

like

how much fanta is too much fanta

do lizards share my feelings towards them

am i attracted to everyone who is attracted to me

or am i just alone with all

and without them too

 

i used to dance ballet

not well

though the music was as good

as music can be

 

long alleys have been known to whisper my name

dripping roads have been patient with my speed

 

i liked chemistry

at a time

i liked badminton

at a time

i now rock climb

and write poetry

worrying that i am missing life

by placing it down softly

like a dead dog

that by writing the colours back

into exhilarating existence

i fail to experience them

 

i think that heaven

has too much blue

and atrophied of boredom years ago

 

at five foot eight

i have said stupid things

between the growing ages of then and always

 

mr lee was my favourite teacher

for he taught me that there should be no favourites

but a careful consideration of each small trinket

like a nail

which has many different meanings

depending on how deep fingers dig

 

i know that nothing weighs too much

and everything is a light kiss on a summer’s night

 

i know the bus schedule and how often the subway

weeps through toronto

 

i know that you do not need to leave yet

but you will still

 

i have friends i don’t talk to nearly enough

friends who i have evaporated into

been totally transparent with

friends i have told moments of when i was six

and beaten bad enough to understand

that people are not good to people

 

i have cried whole nights

 

i have woken to today and today again

despite it all

being not all that much

to look forward to

 

i celebrate mundane accomplishments like finding ruined things

i feel i can repair with fingers straining over old felt

unsure of the problem or which button is misaligned or

if the markings can be washed out of a shirt you used to wear

 

i do not look good in makeup

 

i stand solitarily tall at five foot eight

thinking that i am brave

but not brave enough to admit it

 

i sometimes deplore the homeless

for making me realize how foolish i am

to think that one day i will be able to help

when things have settled and i have a stable career

and there isn’t some ironic similarity that i believe i am bordering upon

and when they have already died

 

i shrug off the morning sun in favour of an infinite night

like this one

where i learned to hold you once

 

i hear a television in the distance

i hear silence nearby

 

i am convinced there is no good fight left to fight

and this is a good thing to fight for

 

telekinesis would be my super power of choice

i would lift cars through traffic

i’d fly around following the horizon

i’d ensure my toast never flakes in the toaster

i’d keep you closer than our bodies could be naturally

 

i fell in love with anyone who knew me before i knew love

when i was a child mostly

with those that wouldn’t recognize me as an adult

found in a weekend bar

where we see each other after years of years

saying you speak much faster now

where are you going

let me buy you a drink

no no

it is okay

you are as smart

as i remember

i don’t get drinks from strangers either

i learned that from you

 

i am convinced that i peaked before my birth

when i was unnamed and blind and a part of

all that can be and ever was

 

i sleep in

 

i am terrified of heights

 

i am luckily only five foot eight

 

i am fine with repetition

 

i replay memories of you

laying beside me

night after night after none

 

at twenty five

there are no dogs who have lived as long as i

and i am of the belief that

cats live too long anyways

 

underneath raspberry suns and preaching clouds

i shot kids with grapes from a slingshot

deciding that if i were to be anyone

i would be goliath armed with his own downfall

 

i have my mother’s eyes

my father’s disappointing look

my grandmother’s tireless insistence that all will be alright

my grandfather’s s tired understanding that little is

 

i am not little at five foot eight

 

i tend to go on too long

 

i do not wish to stop this

because what would that say of me

 

i said too much about me

already

 

i am not an ending

and yet

here i am

feeling slumped

less than

five foot eight

with you

once more

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About kacperniburski

I am searching for something in between the letters.

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