tip the weight to the side
the world is bound to grow out
earthly vines of tipsy noise move
fluidly to the floor

what relief!

the disappearance of
lightning-bugs-scares
the little dark
place
behind my rib-
cage.

it twangs with
a need of a flutter

and a beat.beating.trying
flying- sensation of wind-under
a beetles wingss. a crea
ture. of peculiarloveliness that
twinges into theee word bee.t.ling

the disappearance of lightning.
bugss. I’m afraid to say. Is bec-
ause… I i I swallowed
them
into
and swallowed them
into the dark of
my chest.

Sinking peach pit of a stomach.
Sour to sweet it moves through
desire like an untamed wild
child raised by wolves inside
a silk house.

Slowly ripping fabric,
as teeth clench.
Microfibers of strength
unseen by the body,
treated like an issue.
Everything an issue.

Everything contained
into roles,
like stale bread
given to the birds...

There is peace to be found
In the sun burning the back
Of me.

It is a small price to pay for rural
Relief. Slap that orange price tag
On my face, I will pay any price.

I sit beautifully boiling because
Life surrounds, envelops.
The world is working here.

Clean hands dig out my imagined thoughts.
Passion exists in the silence of the tiny insects,
In the exhausted red leaves.

The sun is a rite of passage to a
Simpler world. The cool grass acts
As the only acknowledgement of
Beauty that is, beauty to be.

My ***** feet are a free pass to comfort.
The jailman has released the tightly
bound shackles.

Slowly swallowing the moment into my chest and
Breathing it out to a wheeze, exhaling completely
The world that can be.

The world my body can create.

Fowl calls pulsating through a wanting body
A mind prepped with 10-for-10 meditation tapes
A goose flying in the dead of winter

What is ease…?