Is it bad when another person sleeps around your back?

Temporarily,
we are,
too peopled to be had.

I stretch out to make myself a big unraveling tourniquet! I stretch out to become the shadow of my shadow careened!









Didn’t time sound sweet when the bee slept on the berry? It made me wonder how I cease halving and being halved.

I press my hands apart and show you how they come back together.









I am born potential for companionship, I know by pulling parallel lines.









Now trap God in surrogates. Now become limp. Now dance with limping motions.

One has to be careful not to break any bones.
I put fingers in one’s mouth to take back my organs.

Not Not ideals.









We hold together.

We leave space.

I am in love in the bath lapping up well water.

We become perverts aging at wrong different moments.









Alive enough and unavoidable        speechless interludes. I think of your eyes.
Partial, just enough overlap to make the inter-natal space.

The third body delivers a cold soundless moment.

I’m crawling like a baby and making up half my name. I’ve never felt less brutal than I do right now.









What I want is for the end to be
the beginning and for the beginning
to be holding and seeing being held
stripped back to beginning, again.



from The Almond–published by 1080 Press.

I’m not actually sure where you can buy this chapbook….. I got mine at Fungus Books in Pittsburgh…..



By Theadora Walsh 👍

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