the mice that live at night in our kitchen
observe each other in the dark & what
they see is closer to our love than any word

    — M. A. Vizsolyi, from “[my memory includes all the pretty girls]”

it’s like leaving a place & leaving
it over & over till the clouds
appear below you i think not even
the lightest of birds could do it

    — M. A. Vizsolyi, from “[i woke up screaming & i ran about the]

if i gave you the
heavens you’d tear down the roof such
a beautiful girl if i gave you sea
stars you’d skip them like stones

    — M. A. Vizsolyi, from “[hello little one i no longer glue]”