Taylor Johnson

We were, all of us, ethered              when the window broke. Soon after, the floor                             bent. The wood collapsing upon itself formed a new dimension,              a new danger. I wanted to kiss                     ...

O capacious room, give me your tongues. I’m done with being self- possessed. Take hold, turn the river in me. I’m freed up to be anybody else, my molecules twinned with the sound. O erotic ours, pass me not. Keep me in the pocket. O percussive dissent, devotion is anything ...