I’ll pull wisps of clouds
from above, droplets
to cool you down,
drizzle on your tongue,
wash the salt
from your skin.

Could be better.

the place where i don’t feel alone
sings in whistles and melodies
of sweet tangerine winds.
open up a window, let them in.
bring me a softer stare
at the tiny prisms on the glass,
shifting sunlight into bends
of pinks and pearls.

here i make no apologies.
here where i lay,
never alone within
myself,
i am free
to breathe in
& breathe out
i love you.
i love you.

it’s miles deeper than me,
this new world.
everyone, save for
earth’s new collection of bodies,
wishing this would please,
please blow over.

leaving your house, i knew
you couldn’t come with me.
thrice-dried leaves clatter
and scrape the street
between mine and yours.

out of your sight,
finally i cried.

the wind froze my dripping
face & i spat venom
at painted women
that passed by,
painted in ways
that i love to paint
myself. not unlike me
at all, really, whose crime
was only to bear the villain’s face:
unbothered.

The first snow always pleads with me,
whispering that I must not miss this. Rose,
silver, & white throb behind my dried eyes.
The concept of the cleanse, the silence,
draws me outside, wrapped,
to be reminded of your power.

Shards of the broken beer bottle
laid glittering green on my street
are hidden underneath your new blanket,
finding it easier now to slice our soles,
or for the unlucky, our skin.

I hear you.
I cannot see you.
I'd forgotten you
until now.

I must cling to the small smiles,
the warmth that blooms when I hear
I could learn from you
& whistling sheet-ghost duets.
Wind frosts my nose & sunlight
washes all the commitments
I've ignored this week. Six apology
emails balm it all, for now.
It won't stay this way,
I know,
but the small joys in my skin
are my velvet shields,
my reminders of me.