xo

reporting
from the island
of victoria
new dawns
on this
misted horizon

don't worry
i will cut off
little pieces
of myself
and mail them
to you

i will
spit in the ocean
and speak
only of secrets
sign my name
in blood
on my last letter

i will watch
obscure
pornography
brainwash myself
with repetition
and fear

violate
the landscape
of your
distant body
a thousand times
like violent footsteps
that break a new path

maybe
i could
save myself
before these
pieces run out
but then i would
have no reason to live