I could not stop wasting time. It was crazy. I wanted to do something with my life, but instead I went to sleep, or sung in the shower, or sat and stared at the wall. I couldn’t even tell you about anything that I saw. I didn’t talk to anybody. The cicadas kept dying outside, and as I dreamed, my mouth grew thick and venomous with silence.
I possess my body like the mirror of a lake.
My brain like a perfect apricot season
I open my eyes to the crows and think
so pure and clean I wash my face with it,
and then my hands,
and then my whole body until
I am crisp and sharp and pink
as the salt lake
which swallowed a man whole
and did not give up even the bones.