in the hazy summer night, looking up from below, i smeared my arms with my own blood, taking it back one at a time from the mosquitoes leaving me lovingly with battle scars, they really love me and i could tell. today i mostly feel fine in that respect but not in many others. fear is my animal feeling, i pointed out a squirrel with a pathetic tail to the baby, all of my love, and i remembered with a sad and powerless note that it's like their eyes are too close together, not their fault but i think that he might as well make a change start with himself.

and truthfully i am pretty itchy this morning, wandering in my neighborhood alone, inside i should most likely get busy. lions feel jealous, babies feel scared, do you. it cuts me down to closer to the right size, and i am grateful?

walking in so many people's eyes, buzzed and jealous, i know it felt perfect, you felt exactly the same?

then tonight i found the fly swatter and almost killed what ended out to be a version of a dragonfly with less luminosity. to be more frank, transparent wings with black spots, moldy in a withering day but with the same body structure. when it landed i didn't tell it, you're dead, you're dead, but that it would be over soon, okay, a drowning death made a quick end of it. in the end it was fairly efficient all told and seemed ironic considering i'd just said a prayer and killed one of god's creatures.

and i really had, though not in so many words, meaning, you couldn't necessarily have recognized it as such. so i've professed that i'm doing the best that i can, which is inarguably true, in part. that the proverbial bar has been raised, though you may have heard me aver that i do not make promises.

i am giving admission that several circumstances that should not be unusual but yet are have collided to make me want to express myself here, like a full moon song that maybe almost unheard, mostly it's bein heard by me, not at all ironically. i am comforted, listening for an unknown stranger and knowing i could find her with my eyes clothesed. like in some way that ten years ago and tonight balances a soothing circle, i can sit purring, emboldened.

and then, even years ago tonight also an eventual happening, somehow fateful and clumsy, you looking like someone else and i was wearing pink eye liner, a pretend version of myself, doing many of the same routines week by week and feeling as though i had nearly perfected them. i stray from a script and feel wary of reciting excited excuses twice. if by tonight this one saturn has returned, it has changed me in the rotation, i can tell you

a handful of new rounded black pills supposed to help me wander free and easily, rounding a small sized pit in me stomachs. doing their work, i am chosen to assume. the things that i don't have time for may directly proport to the sizes of the rooms in whence they takes place. a kitchen in a closet, and a few beets a week make it out of there at the rate that they currently go, if that. a bathtub, echoing vows of soul-mateship, a pink wall and i listen with my ear right up to it. sad to report that my beloved stimulant beverage can generally be taken in teaspoons at a time these days and i lie to pretend that i've only started slowly and swear that i'll be taking more, and accordingly thinking of more and more witty banter, if you feel like you'd like to wait for that.

years ago in the clean, sticky summer, she found a little flea, (a cat was likely sneezing moments before) moving tinily inbetween her fingers, could have squeezed a little more firmly but filled a glass with partly water, dropped it in and watched a creature stop swimming, or, thinking it could walk on the water, fly through.

i am caffeinated again, finally after all these years; a drug that makes all other loves possibly, utmost. resting heavily on your shoulder i missed your eyes but remember them.

wondering of late of commas of error of poetic license, letters reversed so artic you lately. naked trees, a tiny obsession with that, the biggest leaves so that i can hardly see you hiding behind one of the smaller ones. we are sitting on a great rock in the autumn sunshine and singing an alphabet song (but not that one) and only hours before i watched a full moon to accident distraction, even bigger than a clock ticking at half mast. what i meant to emphasize was the size of the moon, shrinking by three times by the time you had woken. we are all awake now, the moon gone by noon, and hourly i find tiny remnants of prehistoric revelry: a baby dinosaur's orb!

a sad nightmare, getting weepy now. aprevious holiday, artfully seeping sabotage. winds roar hidden in an sheltered spot, a grass sleeping horizontally, living in the seventh day of fall, halloween looming phosphorescent.