The
cadences of your combined voices
Tumble
down several flights
Of stairs.
These
walls are your parentheses,
Scooping
you into a
Sentence’s
secret room.
Keep
the bubbles in your freezer,
And every
day
Check
To see
if their frosty bodies
Stayed
orbular
Through
the night your brother-in-law’s best friend’s roommate
Slept
next to you in bed.
You
fold up your life like a paper fan.
Keep
up zigging
As you
zag,
Tracing
the fault lines
In your
cardiac tissue.
