You insisted on cradling my head in your lap, nestled next to your belly, stroking my hair as though I was damaged in some way that could never be repaired. We lose time here, never to be seen again, the air covered in the bell-sounds triggered by the doktors so as to mark progression and change, all the crucifixes on all the church towers visible from the day room having seen some use. Lotus blossoms floating on a sea of asphalt. I will build you prayer-wheels of bone and opal and you will spin and dream of the past the way I dream of it. We will share lies, and that is as good as love. Grow cold. Leave your body. I will learn to speak through you, through your meat, through silences you shelter and keep close to your heart. There are bodies asleep behind these walls, stored in the wombs of the mountain, and when the narcotized trance ends they will wake and wonder why they can't breathe. Better to stay here and empty into each other, over and over, clawing back, from the inside, just this one time, just this once. Uncategorized phantoms, river-ghosts, my body has gone insane. a life lived as a series of desertions. One cannot help but wonder, wonder and live in fear. I will pull the skin from my skull, my hands bound round my lips, up and over, and climb right out of myself.

the exit is hidden within the exit