Notes on Love
I.
I can't remember
the syntax of love,
something in me
is lacking, a hole
where should be more.
II.
Yesterday never happened,
a manzanita bush
caught fire,
there was a voice.
III.
If I push my thumb
into my eye
really hard, the pain
drowns the longing.
IV.
When I wake up
in the morning
the body before the mirror
is not me.
V.
I once dreamed myself dead,
like this, each instant
swallowing the last.
VI.
I tried to extinguish
the burning bush
by pissing on it,
the voice stopped.
VII.
Something is lacking in me,
the elements of desire
are disarrayed,
a scattering of crows.
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