Or how can we?

Seems to be
the same headwind
against which we must
surge
or accept being
broken by,
continue crawling against,
until, in hope,
it shifts

and we go
with it,
together,
towards.

you don’t see
say much
says much

and more

elsewhere.

You can witness something
miraculous. You can witness

me

unreflected.



Let me explain.


You can witness something
miraculous. You can witness

me

unreflected.


I  cannot.

Nothing wavers ahead
like steam on narrow horizon road.
Perhaps it is the now dying spirit
of a world no longer in heat,
my one chance in spring
lost carelessly in the slightest
wisp of a moment’s hand,
the hopeful rising flowers
in my lungs blanched by the
weight of what I’ve made
memory mean, of yesterday’s
sun, and shrinking.

I should have said nothing. I’m sorry.

Your movements wanted to belong.
But inside you cringed when I spoke like that.
I did not know then that you loved only the thought.  

For me, there was strength in a few thrown leaves.
Like playful snow to your face.
I took the bus home
With signs already drawn in my eyes.

After many blanket nights
Together in fountain water,
You spoke to me of emptiness.
I took it as mine—I’m sorry—and replied
I am like you.

I will no longer see you.

But I summon your skin easily.
I lay you beside me, and with grazing hands
try again to show you all of what my fields
look like, in the setting of my sun.

I imagine the feelings under your skin.
I make them how I need, this time.

You are walking my fields with me
And I am silent.

The sea reeds brush against the gentleness of your legs.
There is a lightness in your chest.
And your summer dress rests like fallen mist,
so peacefully on your glow.

May beauty rot.
Is this what I want to say?
Perhaps not.

May my desire for beauty rot.
Would this be sound to say?
Perhaps not.

May everything be beautiful
so there is not
that harsh glaring
lack of.
Is this what I’ve been
trying to say?
Not even
sort of.

But you get the picture.

C’mon, man.

:morbidly urgent
whisper:

C’mon.