veronica

half-living here at
the flooding end of time,
a planed and constant fear
at the back of my mouth--

afloat,
clinging
to meaning,
meaning
in memory
as slender
as the
print
of a
foot
on pavement

in my mind, i suck your shadow from the stone. 
i remake your foot from the taste of the ground.
in memory, i spiral down, down, down,
to the rock and to the bone.