Literature
Whom it May Concern
Dear Sir,
I apologize, but today, your
body was les than my own moribund carsmaller
than cylinders and spokes and a rusting hood.
You were smaller than the car before me, sir, particularly the
front right tire.
We met in a compact moment and sir, you
loomed before me and you were all
legs and armswindmillsand fur the
color my mother would stain her hair.
Your eyes were scorched at the edges with that dark desperate fear-smell and
sir, I left my car stalling on the road to
dive my glass-bone body deep into the
dark dark ports of your eyes
so that my fingers fit into your bark worn fingers and
my legs fit in