Wednesday, November 09, 2016



when you cut the fabric
& I cut
the dry trunk,
I’ll tell myself
that we were made
to find ourselves
under the bower
of poplars.

We would both
have our eyes clean
to look
at the good
of what remains in us.
I want you to
shower for my wet hands,
& then in the sleeplessness,
know me again
contingent and fleeting.

I approached you,
I learned
that a man's body
is also a way
of understanding
the earth.
In you I always walked
crossing mountains,
tasting the exact flavors
of your fruit.

Let's walk
around the city
buy beer & tacos.
Or, get in my jeep
& be my flower
of smoke. Dance
like an agonizing deer
to preserve the memory.
of your footsteps
in the world.

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