Slept, Fell, Complete.

So in I go, and there I go.

We begin in this closet, in this room, in this home. Slept, fell, complete. Engulfed in shivers and cramps in our belly. Into this apartment with friends left behind. Wrap my arms around lists and glass dance tables to spare. Laugh into bags and kept for weeks on hold in case of fire. Become life itself while inhaling grey smoke.

Type in second persona and paint in cinder--through blocks of dust exposed to burns left inherent. Left in the dark and found in the light, we fall through the shelter that brings us in spite of lines left broken and mannequins left still. Like letters sent in June and found envelopes read unfilled.

Away into journeys of three-day shades--left on the lip but never left alone.