i wish for this starved summer to swallow me whole, to crawl out three months later with Rapunzel hair, and a dress made of dead grass. saying things that surprise even me again. I am positive that there are things i do not know about myself yet. I just have yet to lift the right rock or kill the right man. I wish to sweat myself out of this intolerable stagnancy. to run naked and reckless through an orchard. to squat in abandoned grain silos. to find my shouting spirit upon the creek bed. hold the poor wet bird close to my neck and let it eat it's way in. i am sure there are beautiful things i have not seen yet. i just keep forgetting to look up---up goddammit. i wish to be swallowed by this terrible season. swallowed or spat up or eaten into. either or, either or.