Aleph Altman-Mills – Asteroid Belt

You can tell a lot about where my brain is
by whether I write the trees are blushing
or the trees are crying skin. Right now,
my brain is about three inches outside of my skull.
A lopsided orbit, it falls
toward me, changing direction just before
kissing my skin. I am sucking my thumb
down to shellbone, shucking my fingernails,
chewing my gloves, a hand always over my mouth.
My to-do list has started to contain items like:
Stand up. Open a door. Take a breath. Eat an apple.
I have been eating mostly apples. They shine at me
like crystallized hearts.
It is cold enough for their juice to chap my lips.
I don’t even know which direction
the frost is coming from anymore.