The smell of your mom’s dress is closed.
A magnolia’s heavy unlatched tongue is closed.
The bitter scratch at the back of your throat is closed.
Your childhood’s rebuttal is closed.
The road holding up an arc of trees and their strange covenant is closed.
Disappearing on schedule is closed.
A field of rabbits spreading their fur around is closed.
I am easing myself daily closer to the ground is closed.
I am easy on paycheck night is closed.
Lying next to you in a box of bourbon-soaked cherries is closed.
I am almost the same taste and timbre as the empty field is closed.
Our eyes staying closed in proximity is closed.
Telling me this child isn’t my child is closed.
Telling him he belongs where belonging means absence is closed.
When you try to identify the poison it is closed.
The ravine raising its mouth up to the sky and swallowing the last horse is closed.
A review of the maximum leverage available here is closed.
My hands asking to release this fistful of air is closed.
Try and make another decision without me and you’ll see what I mean is closed.
Reporting back on a dream’s dialogue with awakening is closed.
I want to get on an airplane for the last time is closed.
I want to never come back here except to you is closed.
Crows dropping chestnuts and letting us crack them is closed.
Fists of flowers punching through the dirt no matter what the air says is closed.
You plus I plus you plus I plus you plus you plus constant fucking is closed.
Like a tail in the door being able to take it all back is closed.
The olden days where ships hefted the seas apart like god is closed.
Access to regret too pristine to share leaving its knife out is closed.
An element of surprise is closed.
Ask yourself where your blood is and say it’s right here is closed.
Your grandmother’s curtains refusing to move for a casual breeze is closed.
My great-grandmother swallowing her death down is closed.
Taking the land for ourselves is closed.
Erasing an entire year of a bed nailed to the floor is closed.
Making you the bed is closed.
Making you an object of forgiveness or sparkling teeth is closed.
Making this unremarkable is closed.
Narrative that reflects absolute truth is closed.
Believing in truth as fact under trees at night after a fire takes the stars away is closed.
The scissors we use to make snowflakes stay sharp is closed.
Another year of windows softening our gaze is closed.
Holding my breath under water to panic the heart is closed.
Tell me one last time please is closed.
Our mouths together dredging words thick as oil is closed.
The hatch over the mouse in your chest is closed.
Being small in the arms of myself is closed.
Holding on to a rock with a child holding on to me in a running tide is closed.
Looking for mistakes like feet look for glass is closed.
Body as fist as ship as celestial navigation is closed.
Brick by brick this hole in the side of our house is closed.
Won’t you wait somewhere just out of sight while I do this is closed.
Which of us was left holding the bag is closed.
Believing it’s possible to run the clock out is closed.
Please oh please oh please oh please oh god is closed.