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The sun rose and with the birds and with you
scooped up in its light
you who toggle out of bed

the sun rose and the plentitude of steps
to the kitchen counter for water become
morning pilgrimages murmuring sweet thanks even when your mind  cannot articulate
its daily gratitude of satiating
your body’s needs

you write about everything because everything is life and so even this still peaceful morning deserves a poem, a morning drink of water.
The things is I need you to build home within you. One whose roof is strong enough to not be swept away with the ill intention of others options or opinions. A roof off of which all situation not deemed safe to keep in the heart are able to slide off as short and noisy episodes of a stormy season. You must build a sturdy home within you. One with a garden that grows you flowers but also vegetables for you to make warm stew. Make home at last for your whole being where no one can run you off. It’s too long to go with out a solid home so now sink your hands deep and do what only you can do. Build your home within yourself. You will not be alone instead the whole world will come to greet you.
Be well
here
sit gentle
as the night
prolongs the day

there
sit calm
as the day
absorbs the night

it
is one
this temperate
longing that takes the skies

it
is one
shared sentiment
lingering that breaks stars between light years of nothingness

that drenches
the heavens with silence
so loud that I quietly hear you beyond reason as if we lived in the same house

now
due away
with anger
unfurl your brows and sleep lover
there is no way that I could ever leave you behind


(the world just isn’t made that way)
a wide field as far
as my eye can see
my feet are surrounded
not by the dandelion’s
flowering yellow but
by the second blooming
of its seedling flowers
where thousands of wishes
sit on little stems
waiting to be granted
I had a dream that I found you on the Subway, leaning on a rail guard by the door slouched you said our loved had ended with such sweetness in your eyes that I cupped your left cheek with my hands and smiled

When the doors slide open, I proceeded to put my arm around you and guide you off as you drunkenly made your way out. I knew I would still love you
just not in the same way. If before you had pierced me like a needle, now you were one of the threads that had stitched me. And so I kept smiling
i cannot move the clouds, cannot clean your perception nor open the window’s curtains: you chose the best narrative to keep me in shadow– in life there are tragedies, thing we ache for that the arc of our lives will not give.

yes, that is me on an overcast day under the shadow of your weather, where you have put me in our mind

but as soon as I exit your set; I am the sun

throbs of pain that materialize from the air
i hold my chest,

i try to imagine two warm hands embracing
the heavy iron stakes of sorrow that pierce you and then me
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