Here’s a place. It’s got a wrinkle to it.
And here, another: Look for the middle, the center of it.
Look for the arrow and where it’s pointing.
Trace with your finger where light meets the water, touch it and send the light shaking.
Pull down from the sky that place you gave me
when we went running to the ocean and
the phosphorescence spun around our ankles. It flew right from our fingertips–
My love, the light was ours and we were burning in warm water.
You and I wound our bodies together to be both there,
floating. We were the same and the ocean was ours.
Then wind and morning came and took fingers to our place and the
ocean was your place. And the luggage was mine. And the car was mine and the boat and the road and everywhere but
Let me rip it all apart. I’ll take my razor to a map and puzzle it up into place into place.
I will take a razor to this city.
It is scattered it is not whole it is unplaceable entirely.


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