fortuitous misfortune plastered in the curls
of historical whispers
under the bed floors
and the milky sheets
of a page in the slumber of a time
legends and wrinkles
maybe they knew something we didn't
maybe it's going
wispy flames

my suitcase drags on the stone floors
into air i can't breathe
without
solitude and nose hairs

here i've found my gem, the cravings
the wanderings
the coffee shop bustle with the string of intellectualism flossing my teeth
standing on platforms built for talking
i stay for a time in this space
to which i am a virgin
and i lick it up like salt from a shot
and i shoot it down and bite
but i can't finish the second and third
all is too boring by then
and i want something only
simple and lovely
a cabin
steam
grapes
books
records
dust
greens