[every time you die]

ERIK FUHRER

 
 
          my spine           builds
                                   a stairway
                                               for grief           to climb
 
          he slips
                                   his crooked feet
                                                           into my buckled bones
 
          meanwhile
                                   I slowly lick
                                                           the salted rim
                                                           of death’s deep glass

 
 

∘∘∘