number thirteen

1

i am looking for you,
little consequence.
i am peeking in all of your favourite
hiding spaces, dangling my bones as bait.

2

here is a mandatory revision.
you can carry it over any hill
in your pocket; it re-inflates in water.

3

anger gets trapped
in my curls
and swells:
a drain
is a loving thing.

4

if i speak in blood tones, you'll call me crazy again,
so i make a science fiction where this is sensible:
hanging around in mirrored doorways,
a foot slips inside and out at once.

5

let me show you,
i have so much to show you.
this is a wall where i tore the paper,
where i wrote, "i am no waterfall."
where i wrote, "at all, at all, at all."

6

our eyes melt
possible poems
and i swallow them.
the day is turning.

7

yesterday, i built
clay ant houses and was not
afraid of water. today,
i wash the dishes
and stare at dust
in the air.

8

what water does
is not magical,
there is science
to support this.
we burn and rust,
step in and out
of bathtubs,
feet planted
firmly on the swell
of an ocean.