the sun like salt. I've been here before. solitary summer. when I was five and my mother tended to me alone in some faraway city with her second baby still in her belly. there are gaps in my memory like ridges. i become a certain whole then abandon. //ridge.// i become a different whole. i like to keep my hands folded to myself. //ridge.// i like to fold them with other people's. the ridges are painful enough to get numbing, then numbing enough to be forgotten. a white flower in full bloom with such wholeness to it it hurts to look. entirities get sickening and then you plummet. recline.
grocery store in the afternoon. the chocolate stand by the billing counter is reminiscent. another night. we walked from your house down the path and you put a Lindt in my hand. i smiled and then on the road there's someone like you on a scooter wearing gimmicky sunglasses so i can't know for sure
