Crossing Kim Addonizio I stash my heart in my boot. I’ve got a broken knife for you. You’re not dying for love, you’re not even injured. Not a scratch, not a nick, no throb in the bones, no slight headache starting behind the eyes. I’m walking on a dead ocean all the fish in my body in free fall. I adore you sinkingly. You’re what. You’re whom. In every room. A dog starts racketing: it’s you. Siren ratcheting off the blue. I tie myself to the table. I bolt myself to the bed. When the phone’s black call comes I light another silence in my head. -- p2: defenestrate --

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