Doing All The Little Tricky Things It

Backward We Traveled To Reclaim The Day Before We Fell, Like Icarus, Undone; All We Find Are Altars In Decay And Profane Words Scrawled Black Across The Sun.

I Know The Bottom, She Says. I Know It With My Great Tap Root: It Is What You Fear. I Do Not Fear It: I Have Been There.

There Is More Than One Good Way To Drown.

You Are A Dream; I Hope I Never Meet You.

I Keep Wanting To Crawl Back Into The Womb.