each new love is

each new
love is
a miniscule dot
in an infinite matrix;

a dot
to connect
to all the other dots,
to all the other loves.

they anchor
me down
and in.

i can’t
quit their
i can’t win.

when i’m inside them
they feel huge, like surround-sound,
like a canyon, like the hand of god.
and i am tiny and grateful.

i forget that
there is
else outside of

that dot.

i knock up against each point
in search of myself, my shifting
shape; like a blues echo they
triangulate, answer back:



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