Remove

You who remove me from my house

are blind to your past

which never leaves you,

yet you're no mole

to smell and sense what's being done

to me now by you.

Now, dilatory, attritional so that the past

is climate change and not a massacre,

so that the present never ends.

But I'm closer to you than you are to yourself

and this, my enemy friend,

is the definition of distance.

Oh don't be indignant,

watch the video, I'll send you the link

in which you cleanse me item after limb

thrown into the street to march where

my catastrophe in the present

is still not the size of your past:

is this the wall

you throw your dice against?

I'm speaking etymologically, I'm okay

with the scales tipping your way,

I'm not into that, I have a heart that rots,

resists, and hopes, I have genes,

like yours, that don't subscribe

to the damage pyramid.

You who remove me from my house

have also evicted my parents

and their parents from theirs.

How is the view from my window?

How does my salt taste?

Shall I condemn myself a little

for you to forgive yourself

in my body? Oh how you love my body,

my body, my house.