gnaw at the heartbeat - writing of wenyi xue

some sort of love poem about being a dog

wilk by alfred von wierusz-kowalski My friend asks if I’m worried that I’ll still think about him even after the time that has passed since he left exceeds the time that he was in my life and I say it’s hard to worry about something I know is true. This question is a cliché, but I forgive her because love and the loss of it are both breeding grounds for clichés. “There’s only a finite amount of moments you can think back to,” she tells me. “I think of each one infinitely,” I say and it’s a half-truth because the full-truth is each moment was never finite in the first place, each dot in…

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