txt, and: Fray

122 NANCY KUHL TXT letter by tarnished letter we can’t say more restless our momentary messages collecting in phonelight and the voice braids itself backward the throat welcomes new silence pushes lexicon to the brink I satisfy myself with brevity and broken fingernails and dusk like a slipknot drawn fades pale answers unambiguous I always and you always and no and no and no little pleas diminish brightly my petty resolutions and I crave shudder and chime crave hands pulling hair loose from its clip think if I’d left the door propped open I know longing begins quietly to collapse not quite spent nearly gone now let’s admit it there’s no telling what we might have done 123 NANCY KUHL FRAY some days silver today this dull Sound voiceless a threat all stir and trouble my suspended second story tilts keen and madly swaying wild a ship’s transom untethered this is December so like a tear a worn patch in the fabric skin showing through tremble and pitch or gray sky clean slate the day endures tangle and consequence and the room the lopsided room ready to crack open wide this is December unraveling and if I am almost stayed by skeletal light by cross-pane shadows the hour at least is fixed steady stretched tight and unyielding by sure strokes cast slender those dark dark threads ...