Stretch

I am yours

Really read that

Can you stretch the words

Malleable and painted,

I am so glad to have known you

But we live in a different trauma house

Bordered and warm

We are wrapped in cellophane

We are trapped in a dark, bath like room

Tomb

There’s air outside

I’m seeking to find it

I keep getting vaccinated to die, vacuumed out

Warped in a tour of my own life,

Can you send a error message that I can fix?

Can we unwrap ourselves and stay awake

Or is it just me trying to figure out This slumbering, wakening agony?

Stretch,

And take my hand

Like our mother’s in agony who left us in open air as we struggled with our knowing

That we already knew too much,

With fruit that bloomed with a slither

And with knowledge that gave us our open box of tears full of death,

Ale that trickled like a stretching limb,

Reaped.