and it will read, quarantine.
2005-06-03 8:05 a.m.
hang a banner over my house, i know how to bite my tongue, i know how to clench my teeth until they begin to cut, the simplex and the syndromesof recovery in action, a good book and a bad back, the little things he did for me, presents and compositions, always hurried through, always fearful.
how late we see our mistakes. how late we find our liberation, one night alone and i must have lived a life in its duration. one night
with the windows grinning open, and i woke up blind, arms akimbo bent to make their way into my stomach, searching for some solid state to remind me i'm alive.
two days, little eaten, eyes closed hard without comfort, a press through. all i do these days is listen, and i feel no connection though i connect, i fear the network built as i continue it.