34. Alissa Babaeva + Crystal Davis

A moment trapped in earth like a fossil.
longing above ground; wells full of poison
A swelling vulnerability oozes through handheld screens.
no day safe. the air a carrier of ends
Death loomed nearby, his bones embraced warmed jars of ash.
the dead asked to dance and sent their selves wide
Their masquerade lingered like the foot of a Foxtrot,
“m’aider s’il te plait,” help me find the beat
The fervor caused a rhythmic curvature inked across silhouettes.
rattling and juicy, masses pour out of formation
They are the condensation stuck to silent storefront windowpanes.
they leave us a place we no longer share
They have abandoned us, they have been entombed.
What we now know, even ghosts are ruined