There’s a lesson here that bears
repeating: memory is keeping time.
Light bleeds. The creature moves with precision
& skin is just skin, in the sense that everything
has to end somewhere. I have a body
that learned to measure, traits reflective of a pattern,
& when it comes,
my question is more of a comment:
who walks my feet
I want to know what it looks like for me to get old
memory is keeping time
infinite concentric & circling back
I have a body like a term of venery
& God knows I move in mysterious ways,
even now, running my hands through your hair.
Jini Maxwell is a writer and editor based in Naarm. They make sincere, playful work.
