ask the hawk, he knows how you take my love across wild roses’ bedand tie the bottom corners to my ankles how i feel the fading, the silk, and the sweet scentof the deepening how morning shadows can stretch us,re-shape us, twist us, eventangle us but never break us...
in perpetual seas maybe i could have loved you more all those evenings i held you as if i could hold you even unkept time keeps us like souvenirs, the years i picked the tiniest pebble and stayed up late muslin rains to gather us as if i am a dream my body has from...
say the quiet grows around me promise you know i’m still here say the slip of light is what we lacked to pin my hands on your chest for not just tonight when senses become emigrants and have stopped taking me, say the leftover waters will not empty me of you...
from room to room we carried each other and our ordinary gestures throughout the years, passing by the often overlooked the sometimes unremembered god-like things everything in life begins with noticing so here: i give you back the old house placed oil jars beside the...
what sadness to finally swimtowards asphalt because that’s how blind waves become approachingthe steel breasts of summer’s end after i knowwhat pleasure isto be suspended weightlessin your armssmilingnaked as a delicate blue southern night how could i ever love anyone...
