Clearlake is the largest mercury repository in California, if not the clearest large lake. Lake Tahoe out-spans it, but as it straddles Nevada can be claimed by neither state.
I have often felt like Lake Tahoe.
I mangle lyrics with the window down, abusing the tuner to announce my personal universe of highway.
Sole survivor of a holocaust, I am beaten from within, my organs pitched against nerveless scaffolding. The only place it shows is in my eyes, red as blood sun dragged to the ocean rim, clawed.
I am desperate to be recognized outside my nightmare.
I am hunting an intimate stranger.
A double-jointed Houdini, mine was the advantage of not being brittle. I should have broken. Because I bent instead, my magic was declared a sham.
I learn to feel again without my fingers. I learn to speak without my tongue. But I can’t call you to me. I can’t draw you close, so what is the benefit of conjurance?