All at once, I am found
at odds with the world,
at odds with life,
and the god I choose in this moment.
Once at odds with you,
even now
I try to make love
from scraps of paper,
pieces of words, and leather,
(all bought and sold
or taken;
Nothing given)
and search for meaning.
Perhaps nothing,
perhaps too many to choose,
perhaps fabricated from words
and passing thoughts.
Your skin and bone.
A stronger adhesive is needed.
As you watch,
the earth and stone of me trembles.
Listen.
The river in my body
surges loudly at the mouth
as I drunkenly question
life after birth.
