New Openings

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When time spontaneously opens
in your kitchen, painted in morning sun,
don’t bother popping the toaster.
The gap will tell you that Christmas didn't come last month,
for a reason. Leap year stood standing,
dust covered confusion. Don't question him-
he breathes.
Remark on the galactic reverberation smothering
the tiles. Try putting his voice to a face.
He’ll ask you to fall for him. Say he came through war
to find you covered in scares. Blink-
Sip the air. Let him swallow.
You’ll tell him to sew his ends together
with pins, leave pockets where he left you,
shadows stained in regret. Don't quake
when he breathes helium, strings guilt like holiday lights,
bakes you in foil- it’s just him loosing.






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