on the curve down fray servando... (Tú)

on the familiar curve down

fray servando,

past comforting cubes of yellow

and red—

727, 781

799

—the car changes speeds and the weight of paper days,

two,

unfolds across my chest.

Your city is too big for my heart to hold.

Still my core unfurls,

unending paper ribbons,

unprepared for less than the impossible

Entirety

03.22.10