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it is true that everythingis terrible but look howthe cup holds the tealisten to how loudthe laughter can beand know that somewhereand someplacedespite the darknessand worst oddsa seed has opened undergroundalready blindly searching for the light the only truly terrible thingis to forgetthat these small miraclesare a part of everything too
Dear dear, I have described your eyes, but have I seen their sight? Have I watched them watch, held what they’ve held? Once, yes. We were biking to the Montreal waters, to be soaked by the sun. A train was passing. Giant curves of fibreglass and metal from a windmill yet to be constructed trailed … Continue reading
Dear dear, Most of these letters are composed in the dark, one that is singular and shared between us. It smells of you, of a great, blistering absence. It whispers to me what it was to feel your femur in Montreal midnight and how the morning fumbled with your scapula today. The unicelled organism of … Continue reading
Dear dear, In nine months, I am happy to be the first to present to you a healthy, though squawking birth, a weird congratulation for the act of insemination of a thing that is meant to be more than a thing, a failed bird, a busted egg, an omelet if the bird-part sticks faster than … Continue reading
Dear dear, The rain is long and the night is short and I am somewhere in between missing you and remembering you and telling myself that one should never start with rain, especially when we began with a sleek, soaked summer at a bar where the drinks were overpriced and there were far too many … Continue reading
dear dear, the art of art is self-described. i’ve often grumbled this when criticism came around. people could describe anything, feel everything, and yet none of the interpretations mattered for all of them did. art was, i felt, contained in its own corpse and left to die through the living lost. i tend to still … Continue reading
the sky is made of a deep lavender and swirls of separated light and tonight i listened to the music we did, danced to the coffee and uncatena, watched as sylvan esso brought me back. i had a date with me during the debacle. it went horribly, resembling more booger than boogie. she left mad … Continue reading
dear dear, i used to not think of the generous geography i’ve been given. those cutaways of fat and flesh, those with names i am just sloppily learning. where once stood an abandoned muscle is now the purposeful rectus abdominis. where fat, camper’s fascia. where emptiness, a physiologic peritoneal space with the utmost magical embryologic importance. a rotation, really. a … Continue reading
dear dear, how strong you were. against the deadening of days, you continued. against the sadness inside, you swelled. i am somehow and somewhere against those two emotions now – in the same sorry situation you were in when you weren’t necessarily in your self. in fact, it is why i am emailing you despite the … Continue reading
Dear dear, I have seen that beautiful life. Over these ten days, I have woken alongside the miracle of you, watched the light linger a little longer on the horizon of your back, held the fruit you shared with me like a lover’s chin, laughed at the jokes I couldn’t always understand but still found … Continue reading
Mizpellt wurdz 