Tagged: cells

perhaps months,

perhaps months,
years from now, these
days will become
foggy, it’s how our
minds insist on
playing games with
our hearts – now you see
me, now you don’t

we have no choice as
witnesses, obligated
to make out every
fine detail in the
heightened haze

the thought of the thought

there is an old, new

there is an old, new
paralysis – a hitchhiker
on the most bearable
days, a parasite on
the worst – that pins
down a hand, an
arm, a leg, a morsel
of every hour, crushing
the cells and membranes
of day. we feel
sick about it all
the time, emerge
from the stupor
spasmodically to ask
one another for best and
worst case scenarios,
readjust our negativity
bias for a version
of survival

crawling into

crawling into
and out of a
headache takes
a bit of hot
water, some
scrubbing before
and after, especially
after, to rinse
off the heaviness
that in time will
just float
toward the edge,
clinging to the
side of the tub
like a lover’s mark

between your fingers,

between your fingers,
my fingers, between my
knuckles, your knuckles.
we can replay the
configuration in our
mind, measure
the ounces of blood
that must have rushed to
travel alongside,
but we can’t retrieve
the feeling of
completion, when the
last piece of the
puzzle gets pressed
into something whole,
endeavoring for a
recognizable picture

between this bite and

between this bite and
the next, an unfathomable
number of synapses
and you, caught
in the dendrites,
encoding, retrieving,
encoding, retrieving

daily, the ratio of our

daily, the ratio of our
defenses to foreign
invasions appears
balanced. without
acknowledging the
expectation, we are
often surprised
when we break down