death and dreaming

Small miracles. Hope hope hope like my heart's pulse, and the World spins faster through the void. I heard physicists may have found a particle that moves faster than the speed of light. It would have to slip into a different dimension as it travels. Like quantum leaps. Maybe I can do that too.

Last night, a satellite fell screaming to Earth, burning through the atmosphere, maybe as he and I were lost in the raw wood skeletons of new houses and moonlight. In the dark the standing water looked like a deep pit opening up, and I stood at the edge of it, trying to see down, but all I could see was sky.

"And I see the future. There's no death, 'cause you and I, we're angels.."

I am beginning again. A moment's hesitation, a silence that's fractured like a clean white bone turning red. And really I shouldn't be here now, but it seems to be the place I always return to. I always think, it's going to be different this time. I'm going to maintain. I'm going to finally make up my mind. I will put all my memories into boxes and follow the winding roads to my new home. The memories will sit quietly in bare empty rooms until I am ready to see them again. I will wash the sheets, make the bed. I will put away new silverware, and hang towels in the bathroom. I will wipe down the kitchen counters and touch the various textures of new curtains at the store.

I think, I will leave everything behind that I do not want to carry with me anymore. And for awhile it will work.

But I know that once the novelty has worn off, the newness, I will see it there beneath, where it always was, because I am the girl I've always been. Rust and steel wrapped in threadbare velvet. And because I can't ever help myself, I will start picking at the edges, pulling threads, unraveling it a little bit at a time, until it's time to begin again.



I cannot capture thoughts like moths between my palms, between my teeth.

And all I want is to slide back down beneath the surface.