When you feel buried under cosmic expectations, just remember that stars burn out too.

A morning orchard walk,
myself, two dogs and
two following barn cats.
Repeated often, a shared
companionable reverie
of mutual tranquility.
An odd family of sorts,
devotion comes is many forms.

they only wanted to rule the world
with a cast ironed fist
"one more, one more"
until we inevitably kiss

oh, i'm talking about hiking now
thinking about paints
doing much less
whilst lifting my weight;

"can we talk about Marx yet?"
"sure - i never finished though;
i get bored"
"why do they call you james?"
"ask my dad"
"i'd like that - now?"
"not now"
"how come?"
"i need to do the gardening - the grass is too long"
"have you read Marx yet?"
"nearly"
"nearly?"
"yes - nearly;
i'm planning on voting first"
"a light bulb needs changing"
"yeah -
do we have any framed pictures of us yet?"
"no - the lightbulb?"
"yeah - the lightbulb"
"what do we do when finished?"
"nothing - leave. smoke"
"i get you - thank you"

never read Marx. never smoked. paid her. left.
car broke down. called her. stayed. married.
went into the garden.
smoked. read Marx.
bought a lightbulb.
framed pictures. paid her again.
my name is her

sweet sanctuary.

love that warms me
inside out
kind eyes
open palms
an intrinsic
incomprehensible pull
towards you.
towards rest.

I don’t fight it.
why would I want to?