the midsummer night's drought,
I flight for the floodplains, where
the northern downpour bleeds out
and sweeps its love to the mouth
of my lungs. I sleep in the crux
of an oxbow, let my dreams flux
and flow fractured, deltaic. For this
is the way I piece myself apart,
a resolution, my absolution
in a new avulsion.
During the day, I move south
towards the river mouth, picking
pebbles, coral fangs from the riverbed.
A loose tooth is a common truth
in these parts. Bones are febrile,
eyelashes are made of chalk, salt.
Tears turn brackish. They cake
and crack on the flats of my hands.
This is my Pangaea,
this swollen geography,
this slacken land.
The point of no return.
Here, all else ends.
By dusk I meet the saltmarsh
and dehusk, grow halophytic
in the nightlight. I pull out
my hair, my fingernails, and
fill the gaps in my spine
with reed rhythms, saline.
The final rite: turning flesh to grass.
Tomorrow, morning mist
will drag the whitewash back,
ashes to ash.
I wear glasses too ugly things, dark maroon on top, with a thin, squishy plastic wire on bottom instead of another rim. Not many people know I have them. When I was a kid, I had the rimless kind some part of me believed them to be less noticeable. I'd pop the lenses out and tell my father I slipped on the gravel at recess so I could get away with days without the slippery plastic ridge balanced on my nose, and the glances I got for being the only nine-year-old with glasses. Nowadays, I use contacts, and I slip my glasses case under my pillow
The weather peaked at its hottest and I couldn’t peal myself from the computer screen even if I wanted to as I talked to Kenta, a buddy from high school and classic game console and video game junkie. His room was a tangled mess of connections from even the old Atari systems with stuff like Pac-Man inserted into the slot and the old SEGA and Nintendo posters plastered all over the walls the last I saw it, but it’s too hot to even walk the four buildings’ length to visit and go down memory lane with those classics as he does.
I still have a few of my old consoles from when they first came out, but he buys all his stuff online and then does maintenance on them to make sure they work right if it’s secondhand from a place like EBay.
(Author’s Note: I’m sure you can come with some better screen names for the chat -_-)