vast vast vast vast vast vast vast vast vast acting as if it’s small.
Vast and growing and expanding and eating and devouring and taking up space in me, using up my body. Using space I’d bookmarked for another time, a later year, a different partner, a separate life, a distant realm. Now everything is vast and mixed together and I am in between again.
In between gay and straight
in between daughter and disgrace
in between awake and sleeping
in between dead and breathing
Barely a sliver between lucid and dreaming.
I occupy a liminal space between the grooves of my fingertips. That’s where I live: between the sensory minefields, right on the cusp of feeling, on the cliffs of my body.
I cower between mountains.