The Evidence Left in my Tires

Before

water begins to build up

in our joints and it

becomes harder to move from place

to place:

ruminating is what we are doing

here is what we are doing.

You bring me a charm

that is also gold and black, and I find a moth

sogging in my soup.

Replacing mine,

this one has

come from somewhere else.

         here I want to ask but

you are across the table-

cloth sipping and 

wouldn't have noticed.

These are all remnants.

Like the way it comforts me to

know I am animal and not

a feeling I remember

feeling differently like

sandbox rocks

that sat in my little brother's

pockets.

You've burrowed a hole into the base of my

belly like a gyre widening, the

widening gyre?

Where there used to be an experience,

permenance and impermenance,

why it is, that we never recover.