from Birds Hover the Trampled Field and Litany in Which
Certain Things Are Crossed Out
[text ID: The enormity of my desire disgusts me. / Love, for you, is larger than the usual romantic love. It’s like a religion. It’s terrifying. Now one will ever want to sleep with you. /end ID]
[text ID: Think
about what you say and ask yourself if you want to be the kind of person who
says those kinds of things. Change your language and you change your thoughts.
Change your thoughts and you change yourself. Imagine your possible selves and
decide which ones you want to inhabit. /end ID]
[text ID: But you are my nomad and I love you sideways daily. Sideways because I have to beam my love in all directions, hoping it bounces off something and eventually find you. /end ID]
[text ID:
I swear, I end up feeling empty, like you’ve taken something out of me, and I have to search my body for the scars, thinking Did he find that one last tender place to sink his teeth in? /end ID]
[text ID: Difficult,
to be confronted with the fact of yourself. Opaque
in the sense of finally solid, in the sense of see
me, not through me. /end ID]
[text ID: You just wanted to prove there was one safe place, just one safe place where you could love him. You have not found that place yet. You have not made that place yet. You are here. You are here. You’re still right here. /end ID]
[text ID: I
made a shape of the shape he made, subtracted what
he shared with anyone else. There wasn’t much left
but it felt like him, wild and scared. It
was too much to bear. /end ID]