another poem I dug up

On the Creation of Secrets Sit down. Be quiet. Don’t breathe. Don’t speak. Don’t ask why. I will shut my mouth. I will never speak again. I will shrink away. I will wear dresses and play with dolls. I will not get dirt on my knees. Don’t cry in public. Learn your lesson. Bite your…

something of a revision

Here is something old that I revised today, after looking through a very old notebook: We live in the crescendo of wingsbeating, seamless–meaning–an awareness of silenceour words breaking under the weight of empty air– This, the space between bodies– friction of distance