ignorance achived

without reflection. We can start here: There is the folding and crossing of limbs on the bedroom floor. Let me remind myself that it is the middle of winter and the window remains open and only you tank remains on, and I am ignorant as a plum tree in bloom...to the spot where someone bloodied a fingernail scraping the meat from I LOVE xxxx xxxx into the wood of your doorframe, or maybe we can begin with you fishing in the front pockets of your jeans as they lay on the blue rug beside you. I see a spot you missed shaving; close to your knee. While outside an engine idles and this item you find and hold in your left hand, tight enough to suffocate light. I ask: What is that? You say, Nothing. A secret is your weaker hand, but you won't let me pry it open. Let me see. It is a surprise. Open your mouth and look away. I open my mouth and look away. Swallow and don't ask any questions. I swallow and don't say a word. Take a sip of water and look at me. Looking straight at you, your tank comes off and I become a bloom off a plum tree in early summer.


Address

The Comb Tree
42.316833,-72.656553
United States of America