there’s this thing i forgot in therapy
when it feels like everything’s eaten
try to imagine
a color that no one has seen
a darker more dark than the sun, or a brightness
too bright to be swallowed. it helps you remember
the ache of finding nothing, of turning your head
with moment after moment of passing glass and counting
this sentence –

my life is a prism
of delicate mouths on each other. there’s the rain
which breaks into thousands of pieces
no matter where it lands, and the rain
which rains no different from before