Plunderer of the Sun
Death Valley (2017). Image courtesy of the author.
the shape she leaves when she peels herself away (head, shoulders, right foot pressing the floor)
——
Life is a series of choices, so make ‘em count
cause once they’re gone, if you missed your mark there's no turning back [1]
——
Rewinding, my legs reflected beneath bathwater, bubbles parting as knees break the surface
Hear the pop, the ripple of cracks as surface tension atrophies
The smell of lavender, like her perfume which she sprayed in hotel rooms, in rental cars,
like in Santa Fe where the wheels broke down and we finally faced the sky
Feel the weight, my weight, that which gravity pulls, that which keeps me from breaking,
from floating away
Feel the storm in the Badlands, green-sky-screen-door-blown-off-rain (that hungry, that mire, water mine, mine, mine, beat my windows bare)
——
Give me another existence with a unwrinkled couch, another life with a lamp to shadow the living room table
I bought a TV
I bought a new sweater
I bought thread to stitch her arms back to my body
——
I bought tickets to the west, ride a horse to Mexico — find where John Wayne got shot in 1953
Feel the sand, the burn, the blister as we pull together feel, feel, feel
Live at Santa Fe, we never turn back
1. Quotation attributed to Plunder of the Sun (John Farrow, 1953).