at the edge of the water i don’t know what to fill or discard / i have many jars and reservoirs / i have tried to pour out all of my grief but it keeps filling from inside of a cylindrical wound / as i open up my anger the bottle sprays and my arms blister and welt / i gather laughter and patience in glass flasks that seem too small / too fragile / they turn my palms opalescent as i grip them / i put my face directly into the water and love stains my teeth the color of god / the color of the end of a fuse / half charred flesh / half magnesium / my tears will rip the body apart or they will just moisten my axolotl limbs / sadness is not a fluid but a piano or the ghost of a piano / i have spilled most of my memories near the storm drains / twigs / bandaids / overdeveloped film / the fish here buzz like eyeless helicopters / they see everything and swallow nothing