We say these things with rocks in our mouths to set bright the steel of the body’s old business.
Say: “I will begin again at the next indentation of kindness like splinters of glass.”
Hide the unbearable and do not tremble or twirl your body in extravagant shapes.
Hide the unbearable. Make ‘I love you’ slide backward into the petrified forest of a red-brick building apartment.
Do you remember when I fastened my pearls to your matter-thin body, each rib a ringing of moon? We were a constellation in the mouth’s dark ghetto without sound to speak this urgency.
We house these things and shine from the oil. The rocks move in our mouths.
