the breeze makes a home
in my lungs
it
breathes for me
quietly
deliberately
fans and feeds
the tips and tails of
flame
between my lungs
a wildfire begging to be put out—
it
roars
anyway

i inhale

empathy is
sitting down to eat
and pondering the
morality
of the god
who lets horrible things
happen
to people you'll never
meet

i sent a leaf
down the river
it was easier than
folding paper boats
and
swimming
upstream

i watched it leave
down the river
it said goodbye
father rock
mother tree
and
cascaded
downstream

“It’s there.”

“It’s where?”

“It’s there.”

She’s pointing at my
hair.

“What’s there?”

“Your fear, it’s
hiding behind
your hair.”

“I do not fear.”

“Yes, you lie.”

“I do not lie.”

“It's there, hidden
behind
your eyes.”

Set the doll
aside?

What protects your knee
But your devotion to me?
You kneel down and scream
“Look at me, please,”
I hear a bug’s plea
You are nothing to me
Let your head hit my feet
You wretched beggar flea

your voice is a
low rasp
disguised as ambiance
you're a
wasp
and I’m the nest
you loud
little
pest

you cut open
pomegranate
or is it—
man go?

you take your knife
and you scrape
and you scrape
and you scrape
until it's bared all its pride
until all you hit is flimsy thin rind