So long, aria
because aphasia would sing me too degraded
and I’m in a room called quandary
most arias I know can’t continue past.
checking the door for cracks. Are you still…? I want to know.
and I’m in a room called quandary
most arias I know can’t continue past.
checking the door for cracks. Are you still…? I want to know.
and also, an aria is a torn coat–
as much the head, as much the brain
(that museum of persona), however the heart is rent.
the arms that go through its sleeves. backwards. inside.
so you go on to the sea: enigma, riddle, girl with a choice to make.
Thou shalt not board a train. Thou shalt not be a choo-choo
or caboose. sine qua non. I don’t deserve this,
but the light that flew up inside of you was excellent, my god.