Αναρτήσεις
Your mother will leave her gloves to dry over the washing machine
the giant grasshopper will overwinter over the sink
this, this mumbling of the house is something else it is
something else we find our ways in. I forget what hangs over my head and you
fall asleep well-fed and educated noon finds me beyond the demanding body
transforming into an echo a
saturated sound escaped an oscillation. You radiate your velvet love the blurry lights from the living people on the other side the chess they use to play in the frost holding their spirits in wide glasses the voices the creaks of their own blessed beds they're gathering on myopic retinas and we can't, we can't make them out
only a sequence of twin blood drops from their dry tuberculous lips will do
this, this mumbling of the house is something else it is
something else the thin texture of our skins that fuse separated by their blood
like a rattling mechanical valve like the rusty mechanical failure
I open my mouth to say you
you hold a pair of thin shoulders, a stained face
and you forgive what hangs over my head
these hands tremble always apart from/and
when they break that's how they stay quiet.
