My anxiety house a house and a fence and a deer in the yard. A zip code. A plague of starlings.
Kristy BowenI wanted desire that someone set on fire and floated out
onto a lake. To ruin entire monarchies with my wanting.
I do this thing where I say
I love you, but it’s more like a latch,
a finger movement, something I’ve tricked
into happening. Or a hotel pool
I’ve been crashing for years. I slather myself in lotion
watch a movie where a woman with tiny birds
on her dress stops talking, walks across the room.
This is always happening, then happening again.
Like an eclipse, or dark spot in my vision.
She stops eating and shines so bright
it’s intoxicating, which is to say, it’s terrifying.
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