Heart Theory

I swear I’m done, beat
be sure to find, give
all you’ve collected
for worse. Tonight

vice is knee deep,
wants to evaporate
into rosemary, lemon
scented rooms,

satellites–can you
feel them all around?
it’s real, rarity of not feeling
pain, breath, isn’t it?

No looking up, salt
waves drop (no
rising). A woman
in Mexico builds

a home the shape
of a conch, uses coral
skeletons for iridescent
roofs, not thinking sea

skeletons, not paying
homage to all vessels
formed from sacrificial
bodies, faint red glow.

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