after the storm there was nothing;
like he knew he someday would,
he returned to the second day of creation

sky and ocean

a black cloud crept in from the endless horizon
only bringing lightning
and it was too late to cry out -
all that was left
was to turn his face to the sky and wait for rain.

looking up at a plane and pretending it’s a star.

looking up at the star and imagining its
expansiveness,
molten light surging and ceasing

looking up at the expansiveness and wishing I could reach through the window wishing the glass would bend for my hand like water wishing I could crush the sun in my palm and swallow it and

looking out at the mirror and wondering who is

looking up at me imagining i’m a plane.

too tender and divine to be touched
like the nape of her neck
or the bend of her ankle,
the curl of her hair

something immutable, incorruptible
unearthly:

the un-violate-able softness of her mouth

the car feels like you
dusty ice on the windshield
i can't see out

your eyes are wiser than mine,
so i take your hand
close my eyes
let you drive.

at first invisible
a sudden gleam, revealed in spring:
grain of sugar in the snow
you nourish me when all else melts.

my eyes are getting old
i've noticed
and memory too.
i never used to turn on the light when i sat down to play
i don't even need to watch my fingers,
i just need clarity, and an embrace
something to pull my wrist so i can leave it all behind.