get ready
for work like

which
new hot
summer
shade
goes best
with my

endless
internal
scream

my existence
is theoretical

your relevant
hypotheses

can only be
tried between
6 pm & 9 am

in a bedroom
that is & is not

i am unable
so neatly wet it
with my tongue

how a sun sets
upon her sea

& we are
incandescent
nothings

we flame out
along crested waves'
thread-gilt
borders

until twilight tide-
turns & steers us
at darkness

at rocks in a
desolate deep

endless
amble

to echo
off each

other

we write

disappearing

letters to

distinguish

ourselves

fleeting

but fixed

like this

summer

& when they

all leave

i'll wait

for myself

but i won't

appear