In Residence
The phone rang, but I couldn’t answer
There were clouds of smoke
curling around my head
I was only real when I
touched myself.
With each impulse, the current your heart siphons from the phone line will slowly render the vision of Self in vibrant color. Your grey tongue will begin to blush, too. When it swells with the metal-sweet taste of saffron, you will know that this vision of Self is real enough to power its own flow.