somehow, an unusual gentle
at every intersection;
streets or the aisles inside of me.
a pause, a linger,
a moment of breath to
b r e a t h e
and smile at the
unhinged drivers behind their tinted eyes,
hand over horn and I cross my heart,
sigh
at the pedestrians on crutches
in front of us,
my lover in the hand
beside me,
I’m rushed and they’re dawdle,
the roots we both follow,
and the ants
dividing us,
b r e a t h e
I step by.

haven’t even accidentally squashed a
caterpillar and they just swarm the
path all of the time.
cusp of July, the air is a hot faucet
showering my skin in long breezes
so my hair is stuck to my neck,
my temple,
breath is mangled
but you can hear me
giggling
and i’m wet
everywhere you just
traced your finger.
hit the water bottle, temper,
walk to the nearest flower
with a compulsive longing for olfactory
reminders that you’ve had some good moments,
want not, you are not starving,
take care of things,
feed yourself when
hungry.
maintain eye contact with my partner,
and feel the unsettling,
then conflation of intimacy with
fists braced,
a forced howl,
reconstructed stories
but I’m a real moon
so I stare right back without waver and find
strength in the puncture,
demand they don’t come over here to fix my strap
or unstick the stuck dandelion wisps from my back
but move just a step so I can go back to
smelling the fresh jasper lining the fence.
we are our own fathers.

it took some time
but I let some things waft
without capture,
move,
creep,feel the boil peter to a nice warm
steep before swallowing,
before cruising my own aisles.
I have not wallowed in reaction in a while.
I watch where I step,
stand where I intend to
someday plant a crack in my chest
and grow a house
b r e a t h e
learned to reparent myself
and found
humility in the deconstruction.
identity is not a contract.
we are rivers.
we cut tributaries through the center of everything
we don’t set fire to.
b r e a t h e

we rush like falls, linger like shallow creeks,
sit like lakes just soaking it all in,
wave like oceans with great channels
so it seems superficial but you have been moved from
some deep places even if the break is
small
and we intuitively get that we are thirsty for ourselves,
for each other.

we create what we get.
–divination

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