i keep running into the other room to look in the mirror and make sure i'm still here. but sometimes i'm not. it's strange to look into a mirror and see nothing. i don't know what to think. winter is breaking its own back and there are armadillos curled up on the welcome mat, waiting for the desert to come plant a cactus between our shoulder blades.
butterflies sleep inside her collar bones. i have seen them dreaming. it looks like a sunset painting itself across her shoulders. she walks like the breath of the planet. her body is a flower bed.