at blockbuster video pick a new self to dissolve into for a stretch an extra soul some set dressing good one, moon i’m not a woman just a mote on the curved salt lake of your eye a floater an understudy there is a tide (there’s always a tide) but looks like a gentle suggestion to me yikes man
At blockbuster video I am a new self, a wildest-dreams self dissolving for entire stretches of time, extra souls dressed like asteroids, neither planet nor moon but orbital all the same. At blockbuster video I am no longer a woman, rather, a mote on the curved salt lake of your eye— a floater, adrift— an understudy awaiting the fall of a gentler, more delicate self. Blockbuster video and I go out with the tide (there is always a tide).
better dress the set right lest it reveal that i am only a gentle suggestion no longer a woman not yet a mote on the curved salt lake of your eye floating, adrift, and studying the leaves as they rotate into their fall forms i, too, cycle out raw ruby, while pretending i don’t, among the blue spines at Blockbuster video. I go out with the tide (there is always a tide).
At the dust-laden video store I am the discus thrower swinging Blockbuster discs, perfect contrapposto clear the mess, dress the set to obscure the anachronisms lest it reveal that i am only a gentle suggestion no longer a lie not yet a mote on the curved salt lake of your eye or mine a floater, adrift, and studying the leaves as they rotate into their fall forms the future and former i, too, cycle out raw ruby, while pretending i don’t, among the blue spines and the final shift at the Blockbuster video. I go out with the tide (there is always a tide)