Antimony

wolf

I know I will be excellent
once I am devoured.
Feet or head
first? Start with
my infancy:
when I cried
as soon as I was
born. When I was
held. I never want to
return there. Then
my childhood. When
I shat my pants
in kindergarten. When I
still drank orange juice
from the bottle and
was laughed at. When
my grandmother was
younger. Whom would be
devoured shortly. The light
was different then
like it was golden.
Then my teenage years.
the darkness
of 5:00 and 17:00.
Memorizing every
bone in the body. Like mine will
be forgotten. Daring
a chemical taste test
to see if I was able to,
from an acid and an
alkaline, and make a salt.
We’ll soon learn the ratio
of salt to spirit.
My mother circumambulating
the hospital making
the wise decision
to feed
my grandfather.
My adulthood. Frankly,
it feels like my memories
stopped after a certain age,
but like the world stopped.
so, those parts are
a little lean. I have
wrapped myself in salmon
to match the
insides of a stomach
before i am
completely dissolved
I will give the mouth a kiss
from the inside, and suck
on all the molars: parasite
I will know
it from the inside: tin
in the earth, like time
was in my childhood
like light endlessly
spiraling
into a black hole.
disintegrating
with it.

There are
no wolves
in this archipelago.

What swallows us then?