For Shia LaBeouf
25 million net worth baby daddy.
My fever induced lover.
You put your hand over your brow and back away slowly better than anyone I know.
Touch my soul and
then tomorrow we will wake up next to each other and that old world will be just like a dream.
Your fame, the highest knot in the rope,
and how could I ever climb up to you?
Hands, one over each around you, whole.
Cock fever lover
that burned inside me while I slept
and presented himself the next day in the form of aching legs
and dizziness.
What were the conditions for your birth
And how did this all-consuming fire come to be known?
Medicine tides,
the impossibility of us,
the vibrating of movement just underneath my skin,
the wanting to move.
Everything that I have is so small.
I strive to catch up with you.
Let’s just keep moving back and forth now,
one silence traveling between two endless distances.
Where are you, Shia?
I miss you.
I’m sorry too.
Liz Foster 