mirror machine


                                                                      window cut in air


                      diagnosis mercurial                                                                rapid cycler


but no it isn’t that I change quickly it is that


                          I am seeing myself in everything

                                                                                   painted &/ silver &/ glass


                           happy bikini one moment the next I am not

                                                                                                                  a sight opened

open for all critique theory of no sufficiency


                                                                    subject entire subjective skin the body subjective


             looking at everything in the world seeing myself in everything


                                                                                                              I am above this house

                                        see myself entering it                       unbeknownst to the daggers


             the very dark monotone walls


                                                                                                              I am small enough already

                                                                    small mirror

                                                                                                              am I shrinking adequately?


setting myself down forgetting where I put myself

                                                                                                 weight we lose goes somewhere


                                                                                                              cessation from body


body might be well screaming:


                                                        Everyone take what you have to! Take everything you can carry.

                                                       Except what’s nailed to the floor. Okay . . . Take that too.


holding onto it light

                                                                    scary light opening monotone walls


                           the word grasp             grasp is a gesture of the futility


but I would be one to hang on


                                                                    please take my entire arm with you when you go

                                                                  I will not let go not my style


take the arm

                           if it breaks off in your hand if my arm breaks off in your hand you will see

              me for what I really am

not the grasping not the efficiency but the blood in the arm

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