I write from the Holy Well, 3PM & its stinking hot / I say I suppose I should eat

& think / you’d not even look at me / with what I’ve done this week / &

I feel sick & yet / half a pint & sun on the deck before walking / off the

deck / & upward to the cliff / “no service” thank god / blurred pixels the catch /

an unreturned call / an amateur’s mistake / to make / an indiscernible image

like this / I don’t mind in the end except / please god, don’t be

blank / don’t be nothing there at all // They think it’s rare to be alone like this / all in

black then running shoes & screaming limbs / it’s too much, me / but I’ve known

all along / no food ‘til 5 / never wear that bikini here / they watch me /

watching them / smaller than a m2 / but for god’s sake this is all beside the

point / girl, time / is / ticking— eat your fill / walk away / get up the rocks &

risk the edge / the hot ledge your arm outstretched / recording the cracks

‘til the battery’s dead / a peeling face at the wide / hot / edge of things

you’ve been told to see / doing my work / like I’m s’posed to be doing / while

people                          look                            at                             me       .