only after the mountains
have moved
and the wind has run
its course through the sands
only after things have changed,
the world made new
only then do I remember
what I never gave myself
permission to do
so I long to go back
to be braver
to let myself love you

Something pulls my eyes
up up up and around.
What vision of the world reflects
off my eyes?
So I recognize the smallness
of my life under a sky
that I can’t run towards the end of,
and also, the magnitude
of being under that same sky,
as it opens from all sides
to reveal the color
of morning.