I feel a returning
and a graphite full stop
Pounding on my skin
a door balanced on a hinge
If I drag the pencil a little
it becomes a comma
and suddenly I’m still here
not finished
A fly keeps landing
on the rim of the sink
washing its hands
The body is always grasping
for continuation
even when the mind wants endings
I have mistaken endings
for honesty
pain for truth
Outside
someone has left a chair
in the rain
facing nothing
graffiti of the sun shining
What I am learning
is how to stay
When it’s so cold
I spill clouds like ink
how to pause
without disappearing
A comma is a kindness
when leaving is easier
The blood slows once more
learns it is here
water finding the gutter
I do not need to be emptied
to be real
The kettle clicks off
by itself
gentle punctuation
white paper
now a promise
not a threat
