What did I want from her?
I already know
one half of life is to build,
the other half for wind to dismantle.
I know a person’s gait conveys
the number of stones in their heart.
I know history is being swallowed
in the din of the television
as the screens grow larger and larger
until we will walk right into the picture.
The fortune teller promised one day
I would learn to stop breathing,
one day I could close my eyes.
Next time around I will be a city pigeon,
iridescent as a pearl. I will spread
out on the currents with my flock
and scavenge along the cement.
Please drop some crumbs for me.