This I say

Without any notice, you take my logic out of its orbit and speak from a place I don’t expect to find you, creating an unforeseen space in my mind. Dis-rupture hurts me. Desire fails me.

When I forget to understand how some words belong, and others do not, how some thoughts appear mine, and others do not.

When I don’t know why the demand behind this empty stance is like a vertigo, this saying behind the saying, this silence you don’t desire in language and still it says, not.

When moist relapsed by time, lying between the words, opening, and closing improperly, hurting my petals with intrinsically thorns, howling the soil uncovered by interlaced suns.