the universe is infinitely small, i know
that now. my black hole starts
with a whim & ends with a way
of life. until the end of me. until the end
of my flesh. my ash. the snail shell
i become. painted by the people i meet
& all the nights spent cold.
somewhere between your hair end tips
& a shoulder to cry on. in the warm
around your mouth without touching
& suddenly i feel the space between
my feet & the floor. my fingers
while i squeeze. you. my breath & lung.
By Corey KupferQLRS Vol. 11 No. 2 Apr 2012