he is back at work (again). (cuddling) the fives and the tens and the twenties and the ones. (showering in) dimes and quarters and nickels and pennies. (giggling) tags and the scanner buzzing (headache headache headache). digits on a (black) (and) (numbing) screen. (in space and things having to wake him). (because he is asleep again). (having to bring himself back again). and lunch (again). (of cardboard and plastic) (again). (sleeping underwater and breathing through gills). (swimming in his head and bumping into his own skull). (blind cave fish). (him swimming). (him not washing or flooding or floating away).
she is (lips) (and) a hello. the air fresh bread baking (her womb an oven). (a baby). (rising and crackling in the background). (sawing logs and sounds and smells). and (today) she has pictures. she pulls them from her purse (a gun, loaded). (him, unloaded). (today). and the pictures are grainy (and black) and like static. (blurring and rapid). her all smiling (teeth) holding them out (to him). and her face changing (when his doesn’t). he can’t beam or smile (he thought he was smiling). his words say (scream) i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry. (but his face doesn’t speak). and he is sorry. (sorry sad specimen). (incommunicado). (unable to communicate with the outside world). unable to change (say or smile) anything.
and she cries (like she should). and he tries to hold her (his pathetic and unruly arms). (limp to her skin). (wretched). her shouldering him. sobbing. (whimpering). (a river bed gurgling in spring runoff). he brushes her hair behind her (placid) (quiet) (slim, beautiful) ears. making circles on her (otherwise heaving) back. and she (scrambles) to sleep, (hunched) on his shoulder, (unbleeding at him). and his back (radiating and held). and her back (him making circles on it). (breathing and uneasy), not asleep. her snoring (in stunts and waves). (songs he cries to). (her ribs bleating out rhythms, like breathing). he can’t sleep. (watching her breathe and him trying to smile. (never sleeping). thinking of the black and white static blur (rapid collapse into something black and white). (womb filled). (unnerved).
she is (lips) (and) a hello. the air fresh bread baking (her womb an oven). (a baby). (rising and crackling in the background). (sawing logs and sounds and smells). and (today) she has pictures. she pulls them from her purse (a gun, loaded). (him, unloaded). (today). and the pictures are grainy (and black) and like static. (blurring and rapid). her all smiling (teeth) holding them out (to him). and her face changing (when his doesn’t). he can’t beam or smile (he thought he was smiling). his words say (scream) i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry. (but his face doesn’t speak). and he is sorry. (sorry sad specimen). (incommunicado). (unable to communicate with the outside world). unable to change (say or smile) anything.
and she cries (like she should). and he tries to hold her (his pathetic and unruly arms). (limp to her skin). (wretched). her shouldering him. sobbing. (whimpering). (a river bed gurgling in spring runoff). he brushes her hair behind her (placid) (quiet) (slim, beautiful) ears. making circles on her (otherwise heaving) back. and she (scrambles) to sleep, (hunched) on his shoulder, (unbleeding at him). and his back (radiating and held). and her back (him making circles on it). (breathing and uneasy), not asleep. her snoring (in stunts and waves). (songs he cries to). (her ribs bleating out rhythms, like breathing). he can’t sleep. (watching her breathe and him trying to smile. (never sleeping). thinking of the black and white static blur (rapid collapse into something black and white). (womb filled). (unnerved).
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