[1] i thought i could save what's already gone, thought— maybe i could keep them here, swallow them down and find some kind of safety in the hollow of my throat where nothing can touch them, nothing can hurt (—anymore, not anymore, not in the first place) call my teeth a barricade, my jaw a shelter to hide in. [2] these are my brothers, my sisters, myself and i'm tired of carving shapes into my lungs that look like names, when i haven't stopped to catch my breath from the last one, when the list has been running for so long. [3] i want my mouth on yours to be a sanctuary, and not a landmine.
anatomy footnotes (on orlando), s.a.















