Your hand on the nape of my neck.
I was puking everywhere that night.
I couldn’t feel my body, just some vague sense of wet.
Luckily, water is the most clear-cut shot at redemption.
I promised to fall like an ocean into whatever arms presented themselves.

I let myself fall again and again —
Sisyphus hissy fit.
I want to be a cold-blooded lifer walking the warm-blooded beaches.
I’m so tired of all this skin.
I'm an envelope.
Will I fit?
Look how far I’ve flowed,
    streaming down canyons.
Sympathizing with the physics of a procession,
I'll tuck my trail away and arrive at myself.