the sheep are dead all over the streets

I fall asleep and wake up minutes later, throw on a black cotton camisole and a rough wool sweater made of many colors, running.

the last thing is a whisper, quietly saying,

“You know Michelle it was dark and I couldn’t see you but when you came around with the door open behind you I could finally see. There is a purple blue around you, with breaks and ruptures all over. It tells me you are strong but you are fragile. strong but you coexist in this being broken, penetrated all over. Sometimes it’s nice to look at innocence without holes, but sometimes it’s striking to come like you are…how do I know this? because I see the light shining through you in all these breaks.”