Every 60 days I will change myself.
Hopelessly inefficient. The mind
a one room apartment with the wingspan
of a phone number.
Hint: When I was twelve
and a car crashed and a seatbelt
snapped her neck—afterwards
Jamie’s freckles become a mnemonic:
faded in winter and reappeared
in summer. The memory of her
reduced to points. A point.
The photograph’s overpowering
sunspot. This act of
It’s for safety, mind you.