Eight Letters

You are warm like
soft novels and strands of carpet between
my toes:


































I love you

You are cold like
freshly vended sodas and icy hardwood
raising hairs:


































Bulls***

Find me a scale,
a perfect balance,
a


















middle

I stream like salt water,
cool and hard,
stinging old memories and new injuries.

You cling like spandex,
stretch,
stretch until that fated rip.

I run like tears,
Salting satisfying grief.

You are still like branches
set deep in trunks,
sway but don't move.

I am r
falling off the page.


e


st



l



e



ss


you are c o n s t a n t: fixed like a plane.

I love you






























Bulls***