written 14 feb 2021
at the night-bathed parking lot with you, i recalled my old recurring dream: how the young owl rested so serene while the snake, desire-struck, neared her. see, you had shut your eyes just like that bird perched on concrete – and at once i knew that i was not a winged thing, and you were not a thing I could gently love. but something can be admired of vipers – right? how it embraced her into sleep and watched me sob into the corpse’s feathers as if it knew of the violence it does. i can at least say i know of my own. you opened your eyes and you were alone.