Hour 3

What’s out there is best experienced as clean lines and simple geometries.

On crisp paper

That folds neatly into squares

What I’m trying to say is

Beware of the dog shits

They aren’t mapped

Hour 2

If it has a dwelling place

at all

it is, as the song says, in young girls’ hearts

in all hearts

young and old and creaky and bruised and borrowed alike

it’s the footnote of all the fairy tales

We had it all along

If only we could remember

Hour 1

We do this
I am convinced I am not the only one who wakes with a stiff shoulder
From restless sleep on the bathroom floor
And a refrain in my head pounding in rhythm with my panicked heart
I am so sorry
I am so sorry
I am so sorry
I am so sorry
And I am always convinced I will die
But it is just the world spinning
Daring me to prove I really am what I say