My Soul, Buffering

[buffering]

my soul(it.it.wanders) through halls fuzzy, glitching rooms,

with every You shifted oncetwiceagain…who painted You with baby

blue eyes? the Y chromosome? phallus an aphrodisiac? your

mother floating down an electric river of blood?

                        [signal breaking]

NO! i.hold.the.stories, the biblical arks, the wants, the heart’s

slashed wrists broadcast from a.place you will soon forget. wait. wait.

i want to bear the fruit of its screaming: torchsongs! violinstrings

snapping! sexuallyabusedbody! a frozen jaw! man locked inside

his camera! tiny poems! the devil on the floor! and

[crackling]

damn it! damn sadness(reliquary) edges f.l.i.c.k.e.r, this room

cobalt blue trying to keep its Shape against coming&going,

marrage.divorce.you, this body(another house)collecting taxes and

Peter Pan stories, dragging hope, dragging drug addiction from

rooms with skylights that could have held it, vivisecting vagus nerve.

i confess!—what?—

[fission]

everything! everything stopped from fingers.feet.breath the whole

place suffering, engines breaking down, Tiffany-gifted Christmases

given back, Virginia Woolf’s Orlando in a raided park, little princes

who can’t control the baobabs, astrology sun-sign obsessions…

gone.gone.soon gone recycled and you, Soul: refusing to die, refusing

anything but itself…so, tell me quickly, through the

         [self-destruction]

10, 9, 8…i think by feeling! which room holds me now, and which

waits for the next signal, tuning itself toward your light? which

dreams will walk away from this? i can see the eternal Footman

carrying my shoes. it is a coldness i do not know! de tach please! i

am not ready for