from n e a r
dear x
was it a sink i thought i saw
a bucket of room
a heap of space
x
it was win win based on elimination
a body or so distributed by phase and remittance
you were preparing to do something or i was preparing to do something
so that something could go on
here
x
shape bent against a group of listen
coming before or after
i’m opened by the possibility of your audition
my being able to speak through
enclosed by and removed from
you
x
would have thought i would write a poem
put everything in the lower case
by averted gaze and invitation
where it gets easy to hear by recession
by adhesion
dear x
i want nothing so badly that i write poetry
one from another of my skin
along the lids of my eyes
amid the closet of my heart
only meaning of the want to say
person
as in
an enclosure unsafe to itself
x
i think i always did not want to talk to someone who was there
and now that you are not there i can not talk to you
it gives me pleasure
x
in appropriating myself
one said to another
you are my audience
you are my distant audience
as if a distant relative
seen only heard only through someone else’s description
x
i think this is not about kinship
but its resident impossibilities
i think the kind of longing
in this form of contact got fumbled
handled
so that now it’s the shape of our hands
x
that i’m passing through
it’s a prior thing that makes me want to move
being not mine
something i don’t want
and which is wanting
not me
yet here i am
not there either
nor again where you are
x
i don’t ever want to write anything
kind of incursion and disposal
to hear by knowing a word is not a chamber
dear x
i’m feeling the weight of address making the line bow
i want to see the shape it turns into
as this language meets you now
the kind of body that doesn’t know how to prefer letters
its letters are already letters
and it doesn’t need to be sent
genji