Now we approach the time to make good

My only kind violence
prepares its defense

In the seat of this silence
lies my ranting and raving

There is at once too much to get out of me

and nothing for me
but to get out of the way

We finish breakfast
We finish each other

Any time you’re ready
for the grand intrusion.
I’d prefer it to all
these calls from worried aunts.

Without work I’m dislodged
from the rhythms of a day
Any time at all
is what I’ve wanted for years:
uncounted hours for haunting
the city or scribbling in bed.
Now time is a tithing
paid to you, our god.

Is it because
you feel there’s no place for you?
It worries me so        I am clearing away
Abandoning the site
I scatter myself
Pick up what can be carried
and from these selves, a trail

Expectations amok
Body over-

I don’t blame you for the new
I promised myself

You are welcome
sings all I have left

Ashleigh was formerly an editor of the digital literary magazine, InDigest, and lives in New York City.

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