February 25, 2017 § Leave a comment
with me (response to XV)
by Donna Kwon
I’ve dreamt a world of glass and swears and whispers of I will and always, beside your smiles of glass and flint, eyes of ashes and embers. Your breaths come in pairs—in fours, in eights—and more smoke than any fire has the right to exhume. Mouthed words are swallowed up in flickers of burning. I don’t understand any of it.
These stoked kindles are as much mine as they are your, wisps of want you to see and want to see and tomorrow will not evoke the remembrance of humanity, all yours with little to show but sluggish fantasy and desire. I am the same as you, and yet we cannot match, our mingled sighs igniting and tasting of dying. Brittle wings of bone and thimbles crackle, wrap around svelte contours of your ribcage and press too deeply. Breathe and repeat. Ferocity lent for a single minute, and air blisters down a throat, escapes through shivers and winter flakes. The last snow lingers over my head
with you. It might as well be buried.
this is not my signed confession
because I am not in love with you.