Lay me beside your memories
Stacked warm in a box
Slide me pocket sized in your jacket
Until I find familiarity
While old men fabricate new words
To wrap our world
The same aged runes
In a bigger box
More space
More possibilities
Places to go where we will never.
Tell me what you know if there is anything.
I bribed my body to class
With cookies and listened
About a book that exists
But not in my bag.
I know nothing but what I do
And what I do is a myth that
Gift wraps the box
I want inside
A quiet room
You
My body is all I have
And yet it dies.
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