there are signs at the tilting house, where the wood refracts. They say danger, they say the world ends here, they say no one comes out alive.
but we pretend we can’t read them, they’re upside down and scratched like a lottery ticket. They’re not even in the lovers tongue, where there is no word for obedience.
Try to tell the lovers something they cannot do, they will love it in to fruition. Even our fear, fear like a child’s, is charred. What with all that burning passion.
We both know fire, we’ve both been the artist with a match and the flaming house. We became fire when we knew we could not outrun it. Tragedy makes a sort of chorale.
It is, after all, how we found each other, and I cannot think of a sweeter tune than our synchronised breath. Thoughts pressurise like a pregnant dam, though words are much lighter,
they never seem to quite be beautiful enough. So the silence swells, and that is beautiful, instead. In silence, time stiffens till it's crisp. Timeless, weightless being.
Simply- I call it- existing without borders. How can something lacking feel so whole? I can feel sweaty palms pressed together like bodies, curving to accommodate shape.
The human body is more malleable than we think. I could be any inverse of her. Locked together like a secret.
On a pail, sunk into the earth like a dagger, more warning. This house is caving inwards. Everything splintered and split. We enjoy it’s crooked body, all it’s messy ribs.
It’s propensity to fail itself is what makes it attractive. We’re skipping stones with it’s vertebrae. Maybe there’s a black hole in the carpet, sucking it into itself.
All the salivating possibilities. It is, in every way, the edge of the world. It is the border between here and the next. Many remind us the world will be a graveyard someday.
We’ve found home in carcass and skeleton alike. We will be long gone before we rot into the marrow. It is why we are here now. Learning the floor plan with our fingers,
so we don’t forget. A few years from now, I’ll subconsciously trace it on my skin.
And it will be a vigil.