• Seneca Basoalto

White Noise & Kill Bill Sirens

I take two steps towards you. I miss you. I take two steps before falling apart face to face with your apparition, I take two steps          I hesitate,          I take two steps

and my eyes dilate their loss in a hallway, your spirit smells like rotten plums twelve single seconds at the base of my spine ten single fingers and a knot in my hair where I've misplaced my barrette, an old robe, sixteen again and half-naked with tunnel vision

you've been embalmed in static, and the hair on my arms catches fire

where do I keep you? my soul is older than this house and rife of deterministic filaments and discarded rebirths of all that practically was but will remain to be unfinished versions of every loss that you were to an unspoken youth - the vowels in your name taste different when decayed          I miss the apologue and the posture of your throat when you called me Kiddo

now it's all White Noise & Kill Bill sirens

no one allows me to love you anymore, with weight, I left my glossy lips in the mirror, I reinvented the muse then retired her sleepless shadow between palm trees and tramadol - I sniff badger balm and pretend I don't know my new lover sends someone to stalk me while he's away     do you still love the way my crooked teeth would bite you when I'm languishing?

scientists haven't discovered how to let human teeth gnaw on the clavicle of the revenant lover that manifests in your home while you sleep, but if they did, I would take two steps and lunge for your marrow like the former mistress in my mouth melting in atrophy.