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.

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