the derelict landscape, the terminal beach, where shadows turn
to concrete.

i forgot the book i just read. a residue of faint shame.
is it in my head, the way my lost blog is in the world,
ever lost in trackless orbit, irretrievable 
and out of time?

 if i put the book in here, maybe i'll remember. now it's
something in the blood, 
the untold story 
of bram stoker. 

it's gonna be good. it's addresses questions of sexual identity and anxiety. i haven't addressed that, much.