Mackenzie Carignan


shunt the fog, simple bud. green capsule torn and trampled. peeking petal slide and scent of gardenia but gone too soon. fiber of branch, eloquently woven. ties together the atmosphere but daggers the footprint. there in the ash. you have covered yourself in it. ear. spoken to, eaten. window and drum. moved from the pinna to the skull, and rested there. we try to forget her name, hiding it in the bushes. we are. laughing again. too soon. and running. for our lives


frozen grapes and sugar. host. addictive like smear. heavily sedated and bleeding into a bag. imagine write this forever. catch the last phrase. u. a nod. third time for saying this. and more. iridescent means rainbow. remember the glass. don't remember that. it's harder than bone. turn away. t. t. t. the last of it escapes. just a minute. interment. finding out. the way water merges when it meets. story of blue lips and kissing them. who would like to hold hands?


careful of sway. it's a direct reflection of raw wind. coup d'etat. swift route of monsoon and drift. maybe I cancel your words, already dripping with bounce. is that what you are. afraid of. the tides. horseshoe crabs and their dinosaurian spines. you dream of them, stretched and shiny like spun sugar. pulled sugar. the sweetness irreverent but bright. where do we find them. but on coasts. debris. my own placenta was not my own and now. even this. is elsewhere claimed. what is under the shell. but a mass of jointed limbs. stink of seaweed. moving on and out.


you are sewn and tangled to a tree branch. we avoid. missing the glyph. say stuck in an atmosphere. atom. adam. hanging always in your eyes. clear. coming loose is a clean tear, follicular blossom to dust. i know you will be dust. for now. bathing, you swim in outgrowth, brambles. a thicket of hair fastens easter basket. appear as if you are replaced. you regenerate. bear my molted skin. your clippings, a bartered sense of growth. weigh. the lightness, the softness passes by and snags.


"whose light?" she said, the bungalow vibrating and twisting her syntax. "who's light," she corrected herself, when the answer was perplexing. in your eyes, I see a dust devil, wrestling an easterly. you can imagine that touch. first one. gypsum off on your hands. she is happy when it calms. though it does not answer her the second time. the violent barb erases her face. in certain shadow, which makes her phenomenal. she goes there with me to find him. we are. ourselves shadowing.

before dark
watch going
fret cave

slow slow
slow slow

her disaster
his ox
folded flag

trumpet gone

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