[after vuong]
If I'm lit now What used to be a fag A small
heat Has grown into a fire
I burn The forest burns The ocean catches Look
at the silence ablaze What
a sight Finally too bright
[after peaky blinders: the immortal man]
follow the open windows
for there you may see them, the loved ones who are gone,
not departed in any way the body understands,
and yet no longer here
[after rebecca linderberg]
for a friend
winter inside the chest
then the small ringing of your call—
like a hinge in the quiet,
an open door
opening
[after the testament of ann lee]
in that moment
there was neither longing
nor will—
only the end
of its pretense
then this:
a bird
cutting the air
and I,
for an instant,
mistook it
for an argument
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