Style: Poetry
Statement: About processing relationships that had too much intensity.
Looking too long burns your eyes
out of their sockets.
Remembering
guts you with soft fingers
and a scalpel.
I cannot promise otherwise; it will
cut through shipwrecks of the mind from time to time.
Every coiled-spring cell in your body will
be inundated with brightness,
potent, dizzying light, the past in needles.
Too much to bear, but
for any solace at all, so too will
they fall like rain. Die
and sink.
You will
fish up
new fragments—
still glowing,
light bulbs in sunshine.
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