i searched all over for you. i should have known i’d find you here. kneeling among the reeds. taking some baby from some basket on the waterfront. you were always one to need a mission. something to circle on your calendar. underlining with anticipation. the places where the tall birds go. the long legs. the pointed heads. fished speared with their certainty. what could i do, but put the two of you on a litter, and pull you behind my horse? dragging us all deeper into the forest. i could have massacred an army with the little lies i’d been building up for you, in the meantime. getting ready to leave you in a flurry of fireflies. knees scraped against the gravel. hot hands on the dashboard. frozen things thawing in the backseat. one liter of our love. we peeled every piece of fruit we found that winter. saved all the skins in a jar. with the intention, come spring, of building ourselves a giant pair of wings. stitching and stretching the skins over them. more like a hang-glider, actually. room enough for two. no flapping. our arms were too weak from inaction. time spent together in that tower. looking out on the fields and forest. from where our tongues touched, a fire immediately shot through me. tiny flames racing up to my neocortex. activating and lighting some long-forgotten part of my brain. where had i been all these years? fingers pop. bones snap. sheets are pulled tight to smother us. it’s the way the dawn has finally come and found us. it was bound to happen. i’d been surprised the bugs hadn’t given us away before this. it will be a long trip home from mexico, i groan. and roll over. she grabs my shoulder, shaking me. let’s go, she says.

locked in what they call ecstasy. why do they call it that? pliers reached up our nose. all kinds of strange things came out here with us. all the ways the tribes had taught us. to avoid capture. and now this. skewered over hot coals. like pigs. like shelled creatures living in the lake bed. shucked and fucked and roasted. lemons squirted in our eyes. blinking back tears. broken teeth from beatings. blocked memories of streetcorners and days spent lounging around on our front porch. stuck together like magnets. blips appear on our radar screen. some other ship is coming. sneaking up on us. do they have a permit? did we? where were our papers? let’s go! let’s go! somebody yells. i’m trying to ignore it. travelling somewhere to roll up my shirtsleeves. and get some real work done finally. lathering myself up with dirt. pink light shines out from worm holes. people are talking. i think i can see them, i think. faintly at first, in the shape of mists coming from the earth. they are standing there with mouths open. some maybe with puke dribbling out. it’s a sharp turn to the left and then three leagues up the road. somebody is giving out directions. the worms come together in the dirt. i think they are fucking, but it looks like they’re trying to spell out dirty words. sentences. erotic poetry, perhaps. i sharpen my sawblade, and cut the whole thing in half. their multi-chambered hearts pop like a symphony orchestra. all on cue. from their shards come snakes. small at first. but they squirm around, devouring the worms from which they were birthed. or burst forth. raccoons and skunks walk in and kneel down. the raccoons look like they are praying. the skunks tell me a story of long ago. to lull me. to dull my senses and deliver me to the soft places. i hear the soft sound of fingers cracking. i see the way their stripes turn to spots. i smell human hair burning. long legs split and bend. sharp pointed heads turn this way. fish jump out of the water. night falls on paradise.