loose-id

you showed up the night after thanksgiving

pushing sugar on my tongue and filling me.

you say it started earlier? a year before, perhaps,

the night my dendrophilia was fungal born and everything went

loose-id. sooner still? yes, there was the

nothing-badge and there was being born and sometimes when

i am awake but half-alive i can remember meeting you

inside a cavern warm and safe. lately i dream and,

even stranger, i remember. running through a valley

warped by urgency along a stream of vehicles all jostling

and then it hits me, fender up against my back. i walk to the

side of the road

and cry. my friend sits beside me tears like diamonds

crusted at the corners of his portholes. then i am running

through the aisles of the grocery, spiky fruit protesting my

squeezes, naked Anubis skinned and hanging like a three piece suit

in the meat aisle. you were all of those.