Plums
I have felt my skin slide off my bones like butter across toast and pool at my toes; felt the sand trickling into my ears, confusing like it's the sound of rain, because I thought quicksand was a myth. Thank God for walls at malls whom are probably tired of catching my falls and listening to the shaky syringe-draws of a breath, I've felt this entire body of mine slip through the holes of the speakers and turn into radio static, subatomic and shaking. You touch the body but the numbness tells you if you can't feel it it's not yours; there is permanent tinnitus in my ears from a bomb blast where i was the only casualty, my only daydream is where i am present in my own body and in the dream i go to the grocery store only to hold plums not to buy them or anything else but simply to hold them, feel the soft parts of them, and the parts of them that the world made hard. I too, can tell you what it's like to be a stone soul inside of river flesh, to be a swo