After scraping gristle from a grill
and washing out
foul drains,
the shower sang peace over my shoulders,
lapped at my muscles
filling me with patience.
My roommates yelled at the tv,
the neighbor's dog barked like always,
Always.
and I never felt more
whole.

shoulders are sore from
holding myself,
when I sleep,
when I work,
when I reach, reach, reach,
for something a little higher than stars
but come up with atmosphere
smeared on my palms.
Qualms about coming back to the surface, a rebirth, pushing up from the dirt, underground but still space bound,
only held back by the tension
locked in these
shoulders.