when I am diving don’t wet the sponge , don’t reveal an anvil waiting below. if i am a cartoon being drawn by an absent lover or trapped in a pinball machine played by strangers, let me be, plug pulled, falling in the dark, bleeding over the lines.

used to be i thought we had to be together to smell the same flower, under the same tree, noses nestled close, bodies surrendered, laying in each others laps. before a pair of nothings cooled in emptiness, asteroids lost on a scope in an old book about NASA used to start a fire.

the fear i feel over forgetting, like ice melting in a glass of dead goldfish, waiting outside, wandering, always wandering outside what my skin fears. i filled a bottle with gasoline and lit the rag stuffed in its neck. now, the mirror is scorched and the moon floats on the surface, drowning in clouds above the lake.

l'a-r0