faults ovenbird It's your fault, my dark one. You left all this dreaming at my door. You poured all this feeling down my throat and now it settles in my gizzard, rough cut gastroliths grinding to dust everything I swallowed but couldn't break down. It's your fault, by which I mean you are the rending force that split my life into before and after. You are the catastrophic beauty that razed whole paradigms to the ground. (The opposite of alone is known) (The opposite of never is now) You opened hydrothermal vents on the ocean floor and boiled the impossible alive. My heart was a pale zoarcid unsuited to the surface of things– benthic carnivore with a gut full of parasites who didn’t know its own name. It’s your fault. By which I mean you broke me open. By which I mean you let me break. By which I mean you saw the fissures slipping and said “let go.” 260527 what's it to you? who go blather from